


A Gentle Whisper

by dorkery



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Pining, Romance, Slice of Life, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 19:39:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 56
Words: 41,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4534803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkery/pseuds/dorkery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chrom is fairly certain he's slowly turning into a nuisance. </p><p>(or: Chrom and Robin slowly fall in love, with slight canon divergence)</p><p>The slow burn Chrobin fanfic to outlast all slow burn fics, but, like, in a casual and low-commitment kind of way. </p><p>Despite many chapters, each is fairly brief. They have already gotten together in the course of the story and now it's slice of life updates revolving around their official relationship status. Follows events of the game without rehashing the dialogue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **For complaints regarding short chapters, please refer[here](http://archiveofourown.org/comments/67530370) for the bullet points, and [here](http://archiveofourown.org/comments/59803294) for the explanations**. 
> 
> If you can believe it, each update is one hundred percent intentional in the way it is formatted and the length it is written.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I'm a sucker for this couple. I can't help myself. ~~No real plot,~~ updated as and when the mood strikes me.
> 
> There is a semblance of a plot, and it's basically leading up to the Special Dialogue in chapter 11. I realise this story is fairly canon-divergent, including in terms of their characterisation. 
> 
> The story begins after Chrom/Robin Support Conversation A.
> 
> NB: Chapter 1 was written a year ago in 2015. Chapters 2-20 was marathoned in 3 days, hence you will notice a difference in tone and direction.

He raised the tent flap with one hand, the other resting habitually on the hilt of Falchion. The day was warm and his tactician was nowhere to be seen, not even among the sprawl of books or maps that scattered the war tent. He stifled the slight smile at the thought that Robin could possibly be found napping or even working beneath the mound of papers if one were to push them aside, and swiftly ducked out to continue his search.

“Ah, milord,” Frederick’s voice drew his attention, “You’re just in time.”

“Oh? What for?”

“Lissa is practicing her equestrian skills. She has assured everyone that this is the day, and I quote, ‘I’m going to show that feathered horsie what-for and totally not fall off!’”

“An exciting moment, to be sure,” Chrom could barely control the grin on his face.

Frederick returned it with a private smile of his own, “Indeed, milord.”

It certainly explained the ruckus on the other side of camp. As they approached, Chrom could see Lissa letting out a strangled yelp as she dangled from the pegasus, her legs tangled in the footholds of the saddle and barely keeping her on. Sumia and Cordelia were struggling to calm the animal, gripping its reins tightly and anchoring it to the earth even as its wings began to beat against the ground in a desperate bid to take flight. The others were crowding around them, laughing at the spectacle. 

“Stop laughing and start helping!” 

“Dunno if I want to. This is some show, princess,” Vaike’s grin was infectious.

“I’ll give you a real show if you don’t—” Lissa let out a shriek as the pegasus began to jump up, shaking Lissa loose and threatening to drop her. Sumia and Cordelia grasped at its reins, their soothing whispers growing more strained as they kept trying to talk the animal down.

“Come on, Lissa, where’s that what-for you were going on about?”

“This isn’t the time for that!”

“It sure is, Lissa!”

“ _Help me!_ ”

“My calculations show that there is a high statistical probability that further agitation to the pegasus will lead to a torn saddle followed by ground-collision and the breaking of three major bones in the upper system of the skeletal frame.”

“Miriel, stop that!”

“Uh, fellas? M-Maybe we should help the poor gal out. That flyin’ horse is just about spooked out o’ its hide…”

“All right,” Sumia finally said, completely winded, hair in disarray. Her grip on the reins was tight and firm, matched by Cordelia’s own tired handling on the opposite end of the creature. Their combined efforts had finally brought it to a standstill that yielded more tension than calmness, but Sumia privately hoped that they could get Lissa off before she agitated the pegasus further.

“Okay, hold still,” Lissa said wearily, regaining her bearings and untangling her foot as quickly as she could. She wasn’t particularly delicate about it and accidentally kicked the beast, earning an angry whinnying that Sumia and Cordelia promptly began to shush gently. 

“Quite the burden you have on your hands there, ladies,” Chrom couldn’t help but say, amused. Which was apparently the wrong thing to do. Because both Sumia and Cordelia’s heads snapped up at him and they immediately let go of the pegasus’ reins.

“AHHH!”

The creature launched itself into the sky and did a loop-de-loop that dropped Lissa off its back. The others barely managed to scramble to their feet when Chrom quickly sprinted forwards, stretched his arms out, and caught Lissa without managing to topple over with the momentum.

“You okay there?” Chrom asked, only slightly breathless from the exertion. Lissa’s response was a whimper, to which he appropriately chuckled.

“My, my. How dashing. Practicing for a damsel in distress, are we?” The voice was arch and thick with amusement.

Chrom promptly dropped Lissa to the ground, ignoring her soft whine of pain as he stiffened up and turned to face the speaker who had apparently come to investigate the noise.

Robin eyed Lissa and the graceless fall she had taken, glancing up to meet Chrom’s eyes with barely concealed mirth, “I can safely say that you’re not very good at it.”

“Oh, haha, well,” he felt himself turn red to the very roots of his hair, “Y-You know me. All hands. And not, uh, not in the market for damsels. Wait, I mean, not in the market for distress. Uh. Wait, I mean—”

“Calm down, Chrom,” Robin said, and the words die on his tongue even as he felt himself blush harder, if it were even possible, “Is Lissa all right?”

Oh. Right. He’d dropped her. After he’d saved her.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Lissa grumbled, already on her feet and brushing off the dirt from her tunic, “Can’t say as much for the escaped pegasus.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Sumia sighed, dejected for some strange reason. She and Cordelia exchanged a glance and shot Chrom a final wistful look before they mounted their steeds and took off for the skies. 

Chrom rubbed the back of his head, “Sorry, you, uh… you surprised me.”

“Colour me shocked. I wasn’t aware you were that easy to catch off guard, Chrom. Though I don’t really think it’s me you should be apologizing to.”

Chrom felt slightly chastened and mumbled a quick apology to his sister, whose interest in the conversation seemed to outweigh her annoyance at the rough handling, and she magnanimously forgave him as Maribelle fussed over her wounds.

Chrom coughed, turning to Robin once again, “Anyway. It was probably because I was looking for you earlier. So, you appearing out of the blue like that just…” And, oh, Chrom suddenly remembered that they had an audience and he could barely fight the blushing anymore. He determinedly kept his back to the others and tried his damned best to keep a level expression as he looked calmly at Robin.

“You were looking for me? What for?”

“The marching route,” he blurted out, mentally kicking himself when he remembered that, for once, he _hadn’t_ actually been seeking her out for military advice.

“The marching route,” Robin repeated thoughtfully, “Thought I’d settled that already. But all right, let’s take a look at that map again. You have concerns?” She had angled her body towards the war tent, wordlessly inviting Chrom to join her.

He noticed the look Frederick gave him and glared briefly before falling into step beside her, “Not so much concerns, just…”


	2. Chapter 2

“Milord,” Frederick murmured, the furrow in his brow deeper than usual.

“Huh?”

Chrom looked up at him, mouth agape as he continually rested his cheek against his hand. He had been staring listlessly across the war tent and through the open flaps at the outside world. The sun was finally out after three days of rain and he’d been doing nothing but poring through field manuals and old maps during that period of confinement.

Frederick’s face could only be described as pinched. Coming back to himself, Chrom realised, not for the first time, that he had an audience. Every person sitting around the war table was staring at him with expressions ranging from amusement, to boredom, to annoyance. 

“Pining for the fjords, Your Highness?” A snicker followed.

Chrom straightened up immediately and cleared his throat.

“My apologies,” he began, but Robin, off to the side of the tent, caught his eye. She pursed her lips to hold back the smile as she gestured to the corner of her mouth with her finger. Chrom frowned in confusion before he reached for his own mouth and, realising that there was _drool_ , hastily wiped it with the back of his hand.

He turned scarlet as his companions laughed at him with various degrees of discretion. Chrom cleared his throat again before he sat ramrod straight and recouped as much dignity as he could muster. He was the _crown prince of the realm_ , and he _wouldn’t_ be the laughingstock of the kingdom’s most illustrious band of fighters, despite the open-mouthed drooling.

“I was… lost in my thoughts,” Chrom wasn’t _lying_ but the extra note of confidence he projected in his voice certainly made him feel less guilty about it, “What did you need my opinion on?”

“The road ahead is rife with brigands, but we also have our diplomatic duties to attend to,” Virion said with his usual delicacy, “ The question at hand is how much time we are willing to spare in diverting these brigands in the course of our responsibilities.”

“Of course,” Chrom said, all caught up, “As Shepherds, we have our duty to the safety of the subjects of Ylisse, but we must make due with haste. I believe it would be appropriate to cut through any bandits directly in our path without going out of our way. Our rear guard could, perhaps, tarry a while to make sure the path we clear remains clear.”

“Wisely put, milord,” Frederik nodded to Ricken, who quickly jotted some notes down, “A recommendation that I can endorse. Now, to lead the rear guard, may I suggest…”

Chrom exhaled quietly through his nose. He could feel himself zoning out again, despite his better judgement, but he trusted Frederick and Robin to come up with the best possible roster for the march.

… Still. Chrom managed a quick glance to the side. Robin sat with a serene smile on her face as she paid attention to the proceedings. 

She hadn’t laughed at him. 

Chrom felt himself go red again, though this time, for entirely different reasons altogether.


	3. Chapter 3

It was, Chrom felt, perfectly normal to feel… discomposed, all things considered. 

He touched his ear absently. That soap dish had been a fiendish projectile. If they ever ran out of arrows, he would have to seriously consider using it as part of their arsenal of ranged weaponry. 

Chrom still remembered how Robin had gently run her gloved thumb across the lobe to make sure there hadn’t been any lasting damage, and it filled him with warmth and affection beyond that which he was able to articulate. It was the kind of feeling that made him want to put his arm around her shoulders in fraternity and remind her that they had created a family together in the trenches, one that she would be part of evermore, despite her mysterious origins and suspicious raiments. They were brother and sister-in-arms. She had his unerring trust. He would go to the ends of the earth and back if it meant she would be smiling by his side.

Their camaraderie was not unlike his relationships with Vaike and Frederick. And yet, it was stronger, because Robin did not treat him as a rival or a charge, but a friend. An equal. Constantly soliciting his opinion. Constantly seeking out his friendship. Not once was there a sigh of discontent or wistfulness from her. She would talk to him honestly about her feelings and to have that lack of walking on eggshells or attempted flattery was… well.

Of course, those warm thoughts of fraternity crumbled into ash when his memories turned to the origin of the hurled soap dish. Namely, one very naked tactician who looked, in his mind's eye, like a bona fide woman in every sense of the word.

Honestly, what was wrong with him? This had happened weeks ago. And it wasn't as though she alone had been caught in a... compromising situation. Chrom willed himself to remain calm. _Peace, Chrom._ Robin was his best friend. Honestly, what was a… naked mishap... or two... between friends? Right? Besides, even if his brain seemed to categorise her as a fellow comrade, his… well, _other parts of him_ were more than content to _appreciate_ her… assets in ways that made him uncomfortable.

After all, one didn’t think of one’s friend in such a boorish manner! Chrom was a prince, god’s sake. 

“Chrom, honestly, any more of that open-mouthed gaping and you’re liable to have that face stuck on you for good.”

Chrom snapped out of his thoughts. He had, apparently, been staring at his sword which he had been in the middle of polishing. With a frown he put it away.

“Sounds like an old wives’ tale to me.”

“Oh? I seem to recall…Oh. Hmm.”

“Yes?”

Robin cupped her chin thoughtfully, “It’s strange, but I feel as though it’s something I was repeatedly told, growing up.”

That got Chrom’s attention, “Your memories are returning?”

“Alas,” she replied with a rueful smile, “Not quite. It’s one of those things, you know? Like tactics and history and general social customs, I just… appear to know it.”

“Oh,” Chrom said, “Ah, well, that’s… not bad anyway.”

“No, it isn’t,” Robin looked amused as she took a seat near Chrom, “And how are you doing?”

“Huh?”

Robin rolled her eyes, “I realise all those war briefings can drain a man, but honestly Chrom, if you’re pushing yourself too hard, despite your position as the general, you are allowed to rest, you know.”

“… Huh?”

Robin bit back a laugh, but her eyes had crinkled up in a smile, “Chrom, you barely pay attention in meetings, be it the one-on-one briefs with Frederick or myself, or... rather, _especially_ the larger group meetings. People are noticing.”

Chrom took a moment to realise what she had just said because he found himself staring at her. He cleared his throat and scratched his nose. “… Ah. I know what you’re talking about.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Tired. Have you been pushing yourself too hard?”

“I don’t know,” Chrom admitted, “I’ve just been filled with… a slew of different thoughts recently. Thoughts not related to the war. It’s… a new thing, and I’m not sure what to do with them.”

“Is that so?” Robin folded her hands on her lap, which Chrom found graceful and endlessly fascinating, “Perhaps I could render some help?”

 _Oh, you have no idea._ Chrom managed a humourless smile, “I’d appreciate it.”

“What are the nature of your thoughts?”

He fell silent momentarily, trying to think about the best answer he could give her. Finally, he managed to say, “They are of a personal nature.”

“Personal?” She arched a brow, “Are they affairs of the heart, perhaps?”

“I… am not too certain. They have no true shape. But it is of a nature related to my person. I am at a loss.”

“Well, well, well. So the dashing prince has not a maiden fair that he is thinking of?”

“Ha!”

“That can be both good and bad news for certain parties within the camp,” Robin chuckled.

Chrom couldn’t help the glimmer of hope he was feeling as she spoke those words. He tried hard to sound nonchalant but wasn’t sure if he succeeded, “… Oh? What do you mean?”

The look Robin shot him was incredulous, “Are you blind, man?”

“Er. I… don’t think so?”

“Chrom, honestly, I understand that most of the Shepherds are your boyhood friends, and so the many years of trust and proximity may have dulled your sensitivity to them. But egads, I didn’t think you were as dull as a brick!”

“I have the distinct impression I am being mocked.”

“Only as much as you deserve."

Chrom shook off the infectious grin, “What do you mean when you say I am dulled in my sensitivity to them?”

“Oh, I don’t mean you take them for granted as people, Chrom. But perhaps you are not sensitive to things other than their welfare, if you catch my meaning.”

“… No?”

Robin let out a long suffering sigh, “There are persons within this camp who harbour a deep affection for you, bordering, perhaps, on romantic.”

Chrom nearly fell out of his chair in shock, “No!”

Robin was _laughing_ at him now, “Why do you find it so hard to believe?”

“I just,” he stammered, “I never once thought, I mean, it didn’t occur to me that I would, and that others would—”

“Peace, Chrom,” Robin held up her hand to halt the stuttering, “You’re a prince. Mind you, you’re not all that ugly to look at either. ("Thanks," he replied drily) If I didn’t say anything, I’m not sure if you would catch on. But perhaps now you’re aware, you might consider reciprocating some of the, how could I put it, _ardour_ that is directed at you.”

“Now I know you’re mocking me.”

“Perish the thought.”

Chrom enjoyed the ribbing all too much and yet, in that moment, he felt miserable.

“… It's not their ardour I want.”

“Chrom?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head, not quite sure what had gotten into him. Chrom stood, “I am going on patrol. Would you like to join me?”

“Part way perhaps,” she finally conceded as she rose to her feet. The conversation moved on as they left his tent and yet that sense of resigned helplessness remained in his heart. He had an inkling of why, but only an inkling.


	4. Interlude I

Honestly, it would be absolutely hilarious if it weren’t incredibly sad.

To put things in context:

Robin knew her place within the Shepherds. She knew it all too well. She knew that, despite the warm welcome, there was still a thin veneer of suspicion towards her that no one dared verbalise in spite of- no, _because of_ her closeness to Chrom. Save, perhaps, Frederick, who seemed to doubt everyone who did not originate from Ylisse. She appreciated that in a person and found herself growing equally close to him. Then again, Frederick chose to insert himself between Chrom and her whenever he could, so it wasn’t like she had much say in the matter.

However, Robin could say with confidence that she and Frederick had developed a begrudging respect for one another. She had, after all, proven her trustworthiness time and again. And it would be difficult to circumvent her rather passionate friendship with Chrom, if it could be called that. So she and Frederick had learnt to accept each other as a constant presence. That was fine.

As for the others, well.

It would be a lie to say some of the murmurings didn’t hurt, at times. 

But it was a hurt that was slowly fading as they began to trust her. It was a slow march to real friendship, but it was all she knew. Robin only had her magic and her wit about her, but if it was enough to deliver her through the early hardships, she knew she could rely on it for this. Their friendship came from proof, and that proof came from fighting on the frontlines together. 

But meanwhile, Robin also had to learn to navigate the Shepherds, and that came from observation. She hadn’t thought to watch for their tells as Stahl did (well, not initially anyway), but enough looking yielded something that only the blind or truly dense could miss; to whom romance was directed.

And Chrom, she had to say, was quite the lady killer, with or without his knowledge of it.

The constant overtures from Sumia was one thing, the distant pining from Cordelia was something else altogether. Their efforts were clumsy but charming and it was bewildering to see Chrom _blind_ to all of it. How could he not be affected at all by the attentions of beautiful, highly competent noblewomen? Surely Frederick had made _some_ comment? Or perhaps he felt, as a knight, it wasn’t his place to advise Chrom on matters of the heart… 

And yet, where _did_ Chrom’s heart lie? Would it be moved by an honest admission? Did he have that kind of longing at all? Or had the others tried and failed, and were now reduced to… this?

No, Robin couldn’t accept that Chrom was cruel enough to let things continue in this way. She believed that their feelings were not yet full to bursting that they could confess their passions to him, and so they courted him from the distance of friendship and camaraderie. 

Which brought this thought exercise full-circle: It would be absolutely hilarious if it weren’t incredibly sad.

Robin wondered if she should tilt the balance in anyone’s favour.

Chrom was, after all, her dearest friend. He deserved that kind of happiness.


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh, hello, Chrom! Fancy seeing you here, huh?”

Chrom looked up from his bowl to find Sumia fidgeting awkwardly in front of him, a covered plate in hand.

“Hello, Sumia,” he nodded, “Er, yes, fancy seeing me in the mess tent.”

“I just happened to, uh, have some spare time and a lot of leftover ingredients. So I thought, what the heck? Everyone loves a pie! So I, um, I made you – I mean, I made a pie. For, um, everyone to eat,” Sumia stuck the dish under Chrom’s nose, which took him by surprise, “I hope you enjoy it!”

“Oh, well, thank you, Sumia. That’s very thoughtful of you,” Chrom took the pie off her hands and was pleased to find the pleasant aroma of berries and peaches wafting through the towel. After a hefty meal, dessert was just the thing he needed, “This smells delicious.”

“That’s great,” she blurted out enthusiastically, “I mean, I hope it tastes as good as it smells!”

“Will you join me?”

“M-Me?” Sumia’s eyes widened. Before Chrom could say anything else, she let out an all-too-happy, “Of course, I’d love to!”

She sat across him, so happy she seemed to be sparkling which was… well, endearing was the only word that came to mind. Chrom smiled at her, which seemed to make her smile even wider. He saw Stahl enter the tent and called out to him.

“Stahl! Sumia made us pie. Would you like some?”

“Did you say pie? Would I!”

As Stahl clanked his way to them in full armour, Chrom turned to Sumia to thank her again, only to notice her smile had faltered.

“Something wrong, Sumia?”

“Huh? Oh, n-no! Not at all! Just… happy to be here, watching people enjoy my pies!”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!” Sumia’s smile came back in full force. Chrom decided to drop the subject, as he usually did. In the meantime, a handful of other Shepherds had been attracted by the smell and Sumia was cheerfully divvying up the pie for everyone. It was, in a word, delicious.

 _There are persons within this camp who harbour a deep affection for you, bordering, perhaps, on romantic._

Huh. Why would he be hearing Robin’s voice at a time like this?

Chrom chewed thoughtfully on his pie, thinking about what it could possibly mean. 

_Persons in the camp… harbouring a deep affection… bordering on romantic…_

Romantic?

Chrom blinked rapidly. He stared at his half-finished slice of pie. It couldn’t be. Sumia had made this pie for everyone to share, she’d just said so. He looked up at her, only to meet her eyes. She blushed and turned away, quickly insinuating herself into another conversation.

… It couldn’t be.


	6. Chapter 6

“Did you say something to him?”

Robin looked up in slight confusion from the letter she had been writing. Frederick pointed across the clearing, where they had set up camp, to Chrom, who appeared to be surreptitiously watching Sumia who was talking to other pegasus knights as they brushed their pegasi. Well, as surreptitiously as Chrom could get.

Robin watched for a moment, trying to see what Frederick saw. Chrom had a look of puzzlement on his red face. And each time the girls appeared to look up and in his direction, he quickly pretended to be inspecting Falchion. This happened a few times so Robin knew that Chrom was being deliberate about his attempted surveillance.

“Well?”

“... I might have,” Robin told Frederick with a grin.

He sighed but shook his head with a smile, returning his gaze to the prince, “I thought it might have been something like that.”

“His Royal Highness needs a nudge or ten when it comes to matters of the heart,” Robin said, dipping her quill into the inkpot as she resumed her duties.

“Quite so.”

“Did you ever make mention of his various suitors?”

Frederick scoffed, “Perish the thought, Robin. I am but a servant of House Ylisse and it is hardly—”

“—my place to advise the prince on such private matters,” Robin finished in complete unison. She laughed when Frederick shot her a disgruntled look. 

“Nevertheless, I suppose you informed him of Sumia’s interest?”

“Nah,” Robin shrugged, sticking her tongue out from the corner of her mouth as she finished the flourish on a very fancy capital R in her letter, “I just told him that the interest exists, should he care to look for it.”

“Hmm,” Frederick replied, “I was wondering if you favoured her over her rivals for whatever reason.”

“I think that isn’t my place, Frederick.”

“Oh?” Frederick turned to face her, “And what would that be, your place?”

“I am just a confidante. I have no right to point his heart in any direction except for that of his own choosing,” she replaced the quill in the inkpot and leaned back to examine her handiwork, “Besides, I just told him to open his eyes because he needs to put them out of their misery and begin courting a lady in earnest.”

“You can say that again,” Frederick muttered. Robin heard and snorted.

As Robin rolled up the parchment and dug out her seal from her robes, Frederick ventured a tentative question:

“Robin, permit me to ask out of concern for Chrom, as a knight and friend…”

“Yes?”

“You… do not have designs on his heart?”

Robin paused in her sealing of the letter and looked up at Frederick. After a moment, she smiled though it was wry. He half-expected her to tell him it wasn’t her place, as a means, perhaps, of hinting that she wished she could have such designs. Instead, Robin said simply,

“No.”


	7. Chapter 7

“That’s an awfully big sigh you have there.”

“Do you think love could bloom on the battlefield?”

Vaike blinked, “Uh. Wow, I wasn’t expecting anything too heavy, more like ‘aw Teach, my boots are soggy’.”

Chrom gave him a flat look. Vaike rarely heard philosophical questions directed his way from… anyone, really, so he decided to make the effort and be somewhat serious for a change.

“Well, duh. Love can happen anywhere.”

“Right, of course.”

“Why, are you in love?”

If Vaike expected a tomato-faced prince sputtering denials, he was in for a disappointment. Instead, Chrom sighed and looked uncomfortable, eyes wandering across the swampy environment that they were trekking through.

“What’s the sigh supposed to mean? You like someone you don’t want to like?”

“How on earth does that work?”

“Y’know, the typical,” Vaike shrugged, “Two people constantly irritate each other. Maybe one of them has buck teeth and can only cook poison. But you end up liking them anyway. You don’t _want_ to, but it happens.”

Chrom bit back a grin, “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

“Hey, Your Highness? Yeah. Can it.”

When he was done laughing, Chrom felt himself relax a little, “That’s not quite it. It’s… perhaps it’s confusion from being in such close quarters and in life-threatening situations.”

“Ah, yeah, I kind of understand that,” Vaike nodded sagely, “You think it’s just the adrenaline or something?”

Chrom shrugged, looking away.

“Sounds like it’s a bit more serious than just that.”

“Maybe.”

“What, do you like another man?”

Chrom sighed, “Vaike…”

“Is it me?”

“ _Vaike._ ”

“I wouldn’t blame you if it’s me. I mean, I _am_ pretty irresistible. Have you seen my muscles?”

“Vaike, please.”

“You can touch my muscles if you want. But listen, if you’re in love with me, I’ll have you know I need to be swept off my feet first.”

“Stop.”

“You’re a prince, right? You have to buy me a _really_ extravagant dinner. And a shiny axe. A really shiny axe.”

“All right, I regret beginning this conversation. Let’s keep walking.”

Vaike chuckled but hefted up his weapon over his shoulder and marched in tandem with Chrom. The silence was companionable but Vaike knew that there was something he had to say. Again, his wisdom was not usually solicited and he’d be damned if he didn’t dispense it to a captive audience.

“Hey, Chrom,” he said, “Love happens anywhere, man. Does it matter how it starts? Don’t think too hard about it. If it happens, it happens. You know, buck teeth and all.”

Chrom was quiet, but then he flashed Vaike a smile, “Thanks.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Your Highness,” Frederick looked as murderous as he could while attempting to maintain a dignified demeanour, “You _did not_ sit _alone_ with Robin in your _tent_ last night!”

Chrom groaned, “Why are you still on about her, Frederick? I think she’s proven that she won’t shank me the moment I look the other way.”

“Why don’t you understand, Chrom? This is bigger than just your trust in her!”

Chrom dug the heels of hands into his eyes, “I don’t want to hear this lecture, Frederick.”

“You’re next in line to the throne, Chrom! Your safety is one thing, but your _reputation_ \--”

“My what?” He looked up at Frederick in incredulity, “My _reputation_? I’m consorting with a lowborn unknown of mysterious origins, and so I’m losing credibility? Will people stop following my orders because I trust the council of a random stranger who happens to be incredibly competent at warfare?”

“That is not what I mean, and you know it,” Frederick replied tetchily.

“What you’re saying sounds exactly like what you’re implying. Get out of my tent, Frederick. And apologise to Robin when you see her.”

“I _should_ apologise to her,” he growled, and Chrom snapped his head up the moment the words registered, “For having to deal with such a thoughtless nobleman who doesn’t seem to understand the consequences of his actions.”

“What could you possibly mean?”

“At what point will you understand that you are at a marriageable age!” Frederick shouted, “Do you even understand why I stand guard at your every meeting? What would happen if your private meetings become public knowledge? If you paid more attention to your surroundings, you would realise that it is not Robin alone whom I keep under my watch, but it is for Robin that you are most irritated by my presence.” 

Chrom began to flush, “She’s my tactician and closest friend, Frederick, of course we meet often! She sees me for so many things, both consequential and inconsequential. How would _you_ feel if you had to wait for someone to be in the same room just for her to tell you, ‘By the way, what are your opinions on swords?’?”

“Do you realise at all that your relationship has gone past the boundaries of what is acceptable for friendship between a man and a woman?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Chrom scowled, “Nor do I like what it seems you’re implying.”

“By the gods, Chrom,” Frederick threw his hands up, “You know exactly what I mean! This would be easier to drill into your head if you were actually courting each other!”

“But we are _not_! That’s the point I’m making! We are but friends, we are doing nothing wrong by our, by our _conversations_!”

“For all that is good and holy… Chrom. It is precisely because you are not courting her that you must limit your private interactions. It is inappropriate conduct for a married man, let alone an unwed prince. If people misunderstand, there would be all sorts of hell to pay, assumptions to correct. It's not just your reputation you have to think of, what of your female companions? Your prospective marriage partner is politically significant, you cannot deny that!”

“So this is what it boils down to? You’re literally _chaperoning_ me? Frederick, I’m a grown man!”

“You’re not just any grown man, which you'd realise if you actually used half the brain Naga blessed you with. Though frankly your behaviour is closer to that of a child's!”

Chrom felt his face grow hot, “Why don’t you have a problem if I’m alone with- with Sully? Or Sumia?” 

“You’re never alone with them,” Frederick grumbled, “You just don’t seem to be aware of my presence when you speak with them. The real question is why you go out of your way to be alone with _Robin_.”

“That is absolutely untrue.”

“It is not.”

“You’re delusional, Frederick. This conversation is over. Get out.”

“I will leave, but this conversation will not end until you accept that I am right, as I always am.”

“ _Out_.”

Frederick’s response was aborted by the tent flap opening and none other than Robin poking her head in. She looked at them alternatingly, concern on her face.

“Er… Is this a bad time?”

“No, you have perfect timing,” Chrom said sourly, “Frederick was just leaving.”

“Do you wish to discuss a private matter, Robin?” Frederick ignored Chrom, frowning.

“Not… Not as such. I was wondering if Chrom was done with the book I lent him on Marc’s Art of War and if he understood the triangle formation for the assault we’re planning…”

“Then I will be honoured to participate in this discussion, as it pertains to military affairs.”

“Frederick,” Chrom threatened. Frederick ignored him and ushered Robin into the tent. She followed warily, glancing between the two with half a mind to make a run for it. Frederick’s hand on her shoulder anchored her in place. 

“Please do begin, Robin.” 

Chrom wouldn’t look at her, training his frosty gaze on Frederick instead.

“… right. Let’s, um, make this quick then.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Don’t.”

Robin bit her lip as Frederick escorted her back to her own tent, taking slow but angry strides.

“I haven’t said anything yet.”

“I know.”

She could see the anger radiating from him, a rare event that was most likely spurred by the shouting match he’d had with Chrom. Robin hesitated to poke the proverbial bear with a stick, but she was nothing if not curious and with Frederick so riled up, perhaps she could get an honest answer from him.

“I… apologise for my part in your argument with Chrom.”

“Quite,” he said sharply. Robin winced.

“If it pleases you, I will… endeavour to spend less time with him.”

“Pleasing me is the least of anyone’s concern. What _both_ of you should be concerned about is propriety. Your friendship continues to give me pause, but I tolerate it. It is maddening, but I can see what good it does for the Shepherds. And yet, despite his position as a Shepherd, Chrom is too quick to forget that he is a crown prince. And _you_ , well, you’re hardly one to push away his advances, are you?”

Robin felt each word dig into her like a knife, but he was right.

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to… disrupt the social order. I just…”

“ _What_?”

Robin inhaled slowly, “He’s the only one who seems to care about me, with sincerity. And… I admit that I crave his attentions. I could never say it aloud but the truth is that this isolation is miserable. When he and I speak, I feel like I’m just like one of you.”

Frederick’s pace slowed to a complete halt. He turned to face her with an inscrutable expression.

“… I am reluctant to say it but, for better or for worse, you _are_ one of us.”

“I don’t believe you really think that.”

“I do,” Frederick sighed, the anger seeming to seep out of him at this juncture, “I have stopped thinking of you as an enemy for weeks.”

“But… You hold me at an arm’s length still.”

“Just because you’re not an enemy doesn’t mean you may not have designs on the prince,” Frederick held up a hand to silence any forthcoming repartee, “I’ll admit it is a cruel thing for me to think that… perhaps, Chrom was enamoured of you as a child would of a new toy. It is not unthinkable; you are exotic and different in bearing and stature from the usual folk Chrom and Lissa are used to. I was merely waiting for him to tire of you so we could move on. I can admit now, freely, that those feelings were borne from envy to see my place at his side taken away so easily by a strange woman who, despite her amnesia and occasional lack of common sense, was so highly educated and talented.” 

Frederick took in a slow breath and met Robin’s eyes, “For that… I must apologise. I am sorry, Robin.”

She was completely taken aback by his admission. It was painful to hear how he had so quickly discarded her in his mind, but Frederick was acknowledging her verbally for the very first time.

“And now?”

“Despite everything, I… am fond of you. I can admit that I see you as a trusted companion and… if it is not presumptuous… a friend.”

Robin felt some of the tension leave her body. She could almost feel her eyes stinging with tears.

“Truly?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “Truly.”

“I would be honoured to be called your friend.”

Frederick hung his head, “Thank god.”

“Do you… believe that I am worthy of being his friend, then?”

He sighed, “Truthfully… I believe that you are worthy of that, and more, Robin.”

“… more?”

Frederick shook his head, “That is all I will say on that topic. But if you will allow me to return to the original matter at hand, I was, well… _upset_ at the lack of restraint that you and Chrom show.”

“Ah,” Robin felt chastened even more now that Frederick had called them friends, “Upset isn’t quite the word I would use.”

Frederick coughed, “Yes, well, Chrom is stubborn at the worst of times and I fear that I have been rebuffed more than is sensitive.”

“And our Chrom is quite the sensitive man.”

Frederick’s lips quirked upwards, “Indeed.” He paused, “How much did you hear?”

“Bits and pieces, to be honest. Something about him being marriageable, something about boundaries and chaperones, something about a drill. Then he called you delusional and that’s about the time I decided I should probably intervene.”

Frederick sighed, “And what do you infer from the conversation?”

She had the decency to look sheepish, “I’m not sure about the drill, but I suppose it’s to do with our unnatural proximity for platonic companions. Especially given his political stature.”

“Quite right,” Frederick nodded, “I’m not saying you cannot be friends but I beg you not to be alone with him behind closed doors. That’s all I ask.”

“We can continue our relationship,” she said slowly, “For as long as we are in public?”

“Yes.”

“But I should not be alone with him in private.”

“That’s all I ask.”

Robin inhaled slowly. It wasn’t an unreasonable request.

“I understand.”


	10. Chapter 10

Something must have happened.

He had never seen Frederick and Robin so… close before. He knew them to exchange a quip or two, usually at his expense, but Chrom didn’t think they would be having such an easy going conversation together. Rather than friendly, he thought they seemed… _chummy_. And wasn’t that a strange thing to think of someone as uptight as Frederick.

But this could only be good, of course. Perhaps now Frederick would be able to see Robin through Chrom’s eyes. Chrom awaited, with bated breath, the future apology due to him for Frederick’s apoplectic fit and the admission of being wrong about Chrom and Robin both.

It was a matter of time.

Really. 

Just a matter of time.


	11. Chapter 11

As the laughter in the tent faded, Chrom leaned back into his chair and smiled at Robin, who returned it sweetly. The silence lingered for just a moment until it was interrupted by the distant sound of clanking armour and an upset shout (which sounded suspiciously like Sumia). Frederick turned his head towards the noise, deliberating something before he sighed and stood.

“Pardon me, milord. I have some business to attend to.”

“Carry on,” Chrom said absently. What he didn’t expect was for Robin to follow after Frederick, “Wait, where are you going?”

“Oh, I meant to discuss something with Gaius.”

“You don’t _have_ to leave now that Frederick isn’t breathing down our necks.”

Robin chuckled, “The timing just seemed convenient, Chrom.”

“Oh… I see.”

“Until later.”

“Of course.”

Robin disappeared and Chrom felt… uneasy, perhaps was not the most accurate word, but he wasn’t sure what else he could say. Disappointed? Somewhat paranoid? He didn’t think that he had changed, and yet he recognised that their time together grew less each day, though he was not sure if it was on account of Robin’s workload. The moment Frederick or whomever else left the vicinity, Robin usually took it as her cue to go. But what rankled him slightly more than her disappearing act was the fact that this… situation seemed to bother him far more than it did her. And he was beginning to understand why.

For one thing, much of the time they spent together had been substituted for time spent mingling with the other Shepherds, particularly the newcomers. For that, Chrom knew he couldn’t fault her. He and Robin had been together from the beginning because he was familiar and kind to her, and then their rapport had just… taken off somehow. The excitement of someone new who could expertly converse in a multitude of topics evolved into an easy friendship.

Honestly though, did she _have_ to spend so much time with the others? Granted, she did have access to the entire army whereas Chrom was only able to speak to maybe eight people on account of his position (and maybe the other seven people he could speak to weren’t as conversational or interesting as she was) and… all right, maybe, just maybe, he was feeling… abandoned.

And yet, he wasn’t so cruel as to tell her to stop forging friendships with the others.

It was miserable.

That was the moment Frederick re-entered the tent. He eyed Chrom in surprise, “Is there a problem, milord?”

“Did you say something to Robin?”

Frederick wasn’t fazed at all, “On account of?”

Chrom’s gaze shifted to the ground. He mumbled, “Her time spent with me.”

“Milord, I said nothing about her reducing your time together, or diminishing your friendship. I spoke to her merely on maintaining propriety.”

“Oh? And her suddenly re-organising the battle roster so that we aren’t partnered?”

“I assure you, that is wholly her prerogative. I take no issue with you pairing up with Robin for battle.”

“And what about you suddenly being friendly with her?”

Frederick heaved a long-suffering sigh, “I apologised to her for the somewhat cruel treatment I may have been subjecting her to, and we reconciled. As friends. Hence the friendliness.”

Chrom blinked at him in confusion, “Are you telling me the entire camp has reconciled with her too?”

“Not that I’m aware of. What I may have done is… given her the push, perhaps. She still felt like an outsider, and I told her that that was no longer the case. The others aren’t as suspicious as me, in general. I’m sure she felt that, if I had changed my attitude towards her, surely the rest of the camp would be much more open to friendship.”

Oh. 

Well. That… made a lot of sense. Robin seemed to respect Frederick the most out of all the other Shepherds, probably on account of his watchdog-like position, and his say-so probably meant a great deal to her.

Chrom coughed, “Then I… owe you thanks. I know it had been weighing on her, though she never articulated her feelings. It’s good she feels that she can speak to the others freely.”

Frederick inclined his head, “It was my pleasure, milord. And yet, you don’t look any happier.”

“Ah,” Chrom grinned humourlessly, “Perhaps I’m feeling a little… lonely without her constantly by my side.”

Frederick smiled as he took a seat beside Chrom and poured them both tea, “And now you know how I felt.”


	12. Interlude II

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

Frederick had his hands steepled together, his fingertips digging into the centre of his brow as he took slow breaths, “What are you seeing?”

“I thought Chrom had, you know, a _thing_ for Robin.”

“Yes.”

“But isn’t he kind of…” Stahl gestured vaguely in the air, “I mean, he’s making doe eyes at Sumia.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what happened?”

Frederick sighed, “It seems as though Robin is deflecting his affections.”

“Oh,” Stahl wrinkled his nose, “She’s not interested?”

“I am not sure. I feel like I should be happy at this development. After all, if Chrom does not have a marriage alliance in the future, then an appropriate fiancée of noble lineage within the halidom would be most acceptable. And yet… I honestly found myself frustrated.”

“That’s understandable. I doubt he ever had a romantic bone in his body.”

“I,” Frederick confided heavily, massaging his temples, “I may have actually tried to get Chrom to admit he harboured feelings for Robin.”

Stahl’s eyes bulged, “ _You_ did _what?_ ”

“Yes.”

“And how did that go?”

“As well as you can imagine.”

“So he doesn’t…”

“Either he still doesn’t realise his feelings or their… friendship is beyond even what we are capable of imagining.”

“Wow,” Stahl leaned back in his seat, staring at Chrom’s figure as he took his position on the training grounds, “ _Wow_.”

“Yes,” Frederick closed his eyes again and sighed.


	13. Chapter 13

“Do you always have a massive frown on your face when you’re tactician-ing, Bubbles?”

“Depends on the scale of the tactician-ing.”

“So how’s the scale of this?”

“Potentially minor. Potentially a disaster. It’s not just posting guards, it’s also making sure we have more culturally sensitive members in the detail.”

“Yeah? How long have you been whacking away at this?”

Robin glanced at the timepiece on the nearby bureau, “… three or four hours.”

“And how close are you to solving it?”

“… no clue.”

“No clue,” Gaius nodded, his poker face unwavering, “Y’know, even though you’re, uh, taking up the mantle as resident strategist, I’m pretty sure the army somehow managed without you before.”

Robin rolled her eyes, “And?”

“I’m saying that there ain’t a problem with you taking a break once in a while. Y’know. Maybe take a stroll through the woods with ole’ Gaius. I’m sure Blue and his minions will live if you disappear for an hour or two. Well. Maybe not His Lordship.”

Robin always found it a delight to spend time with Gaius, because he was ridiculous but also very sharp, given his life experience and shady dealings. Having a criminal element within their ranks had honestly been a relief because she felt as though what they shared in common was their status as an outsider, though they were now accepted wholly as Shepherds. Nevertheless, Robin always did find the Ylissians somewhat more delicate in their social customs – something she found difficult to get used to – and Gaius was a breath of fresh air. As natural as it felt to be with Chrom, she felt like she could truly relax around Gaius, especially now that the constant barrage of bribes had come to an end since they exchanged secrets.

Of course, the gift of that lovely handmade pendant was also rather sweet.

Robin had nothing on her when she awoke save her tome, a sword and her robes. The trinket was… rather symbolic in her establishing her personality, her identity. She felt like she was becoming someone real as her bonds strengthened and these gifts of friendship changed hands. She found herself toying with the pendant when she was deep in thought, appreciative of its slight weight that seemed to anchor her.

Something she also noticed was Gaius’ rather… overly friendly flirtations of late.

Not that she was completely unmoved. Maybe if he established himself more seriously, she would be inclined to respond…

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Speaking of exchanged secrets.

Robin glanced up from her desk to find Chrom had entered the war tent. He glanced at Gaius, whose feet had been propped up on a nearby stool, and smiled in response to the casual salute and lazy call of ‘Blue’.

Robin sighed, “Honestly? I’m zoning out.”

“You? Is that even possible?” 

“Even the brightest candles will wear down if they are constantly alight.”

“You’re free to daydream outside of this stuffy tent, you know.”

“True enough,” Robin stretched, feeling her back crack from the stiffness of being in the same position for hours, “Honestly, you have impeccable timing. I just can’t wrap my head around the security detail for the trade mission to Valm.”

“Just pick whoever likes to travel long distances and be done with it.”

“A stellar plan,” Gaius quipped.

“And this, Your Royal Highness, is why I’m the tactician and you’re the general.”

Chrom laughed and led both Gaius and Robin out of the tent. The day was overcast and not too hot. Robin was honestly glad to be outside for a change.

“So, still fancy that walk, Bubbles?” Gaius had rather coolly slipped an arm over her shoulders, to which she rolled her eyes, but did not protest. She liked the affection, craved it, if she had to be honest.

Chrom was staring, “Oh, I uh, wasn’t aware you’d made any plans.”

“Nothing of the sort,” Robin said, “You’re free to join my walk too, if you’d like.”

“’Too’?”

“What?”

“Well, that's what I'd _like_ to say but frankly, I’m feeling more worn out than usual for some reason. I think I might consider retiring to my tent for a nap.”

“Ah, beauty sleep. I’m more than happy to keep you company and watch over you, make sure no Princesses come invading with frogs.”

Robin giggled and gently punched Gaius in the side, “I appreciate the offer, but I think I can manage myself.”

“Should I consider this a rain check, then?” Gaius flashed her a lazy grin.

“Thanks for the company earlier, Gaius,” Robin rolled her eyes, “Sorry to cut things short, Chrom. Maybe we can talk over dinner…?”

“Of course,” he said, though his voice was somewhat strained, “Rest well.”

She gave them both a small wave and walked away.


	14. Chapter 14

“Hey thanks for making a decision, Blue,” Gaius clapped Chrom on the shoulder as he sauntered past, “I didn’t think I even stood a chance. But now that you’ve stepped aside, I guess I don’t have anything to worry about anymore.”

“A decision? What decision?”

“You picked Sumia, right?”

“ _Huh?_ ”

Gaius paused mid-step. He turned his head, frowning slightly.

“I mean, you’re not… courting Robin, are you?”

“O-Of course, I’m not. But I don’t understand what on earth you’re talking about.”

Gaius scratched his cheek as he pondered something briefly. After a beat, he strode back to Chrom and crossed his arms, putting his weight on his left foot as he looked the prince straight in the eye.

“I don’t like messing up relationships, so let’s get things straight, all right?”

“R-Right.”

“I kind of like Bubb- er, Robin. I’m not sure if it will lead anywhere, but I’m starting to think that, y’know, she and I, maybe something could happen. Mind you, I’m not sure _yet_. I’m sort of… just entertaining the notion, for now.”

Chrom’s heart dropped to his feet, like a stone in water. He swallowed nervously but his mouth felt like cotton. Unable to speak, he could only nod affirmatively to show he was paying attention.

“The reason I’ve only begun entertaining the notion _now_ is because, well, I thought she was spoken for. Or at least, I thought she and a buddy of mine had been making eyes at each other. But… I’m under the impression that that’s no longer true. Do you follow?”

“Somewhat,” Chrom mumbled, each statement jolting through his body and making his veins turn to ice. Gaius had been…? And Robin was spoken for…? 

Gaius let out a slightly annoyed huff of air, “Blue, that buddy is you. I thought you and Robin had been playing coy with each other.”

Chrom snapped back into reality, “What? No! No, we’ve never, not for a moment have we been anything but friends. Our relationship has never been inappropriate, I swear it. Why does everyone think we’ve been- been- fooling around? She’s, well, not exactly what one would call a lady of the court, but she has been a paragon of excellence as a, as a commander and as a person and as a friend—”

“Okay, okay, keep your head on,” Gaius had raised both palms up in an attempt to placate Chrom whose chest was now heaving from the outburst, “We know you like her, Blue. It’s pretty obvious. But, uh… you’re not… interested in her? In a more… romantic sense?”

Chrom turned red, “We’ve never been anything but friends.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t actually answer my question,” Gaius sighed, hands on his hips, “Look, the entire camp thinks you’re mooning for her, the way you follow her around hoping she pays special attention to you. You’re joined at the hip. But recently, y’know, you haven’t been together as much. And you, in particular, have been paying an inordinate amount of attention to Sumia,to whom you usually just say ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ to. The rumour mill is turning. Tongues wag, Your Princeliness.”

“This is a lot to take in,” Chrom inhaled slowly, “I think I need to sit down.”

“Yeah, you’re a real pampered guy, you know that? Dense as a brick wall, though.”

“Funny you should mention it, I’ve been hearing that a lot lately,” Chrom sat on a nearby tree stump and pulled his collar down, fanning himself with his hand. Gaius sighed again and squatted opposite him.

“Watching you run in circles has been pretty funny, I’ll be the first to admit it, but I’m not patient enough to hold your hand and wait for you to come to realisation yourself. Time’s a’wasting. Even if you have all the time in the world, my clock’s running out. I assumed your royal behind was equally harassed with responsibilities and duties and that sort of claptrap.”

“Look, I’ve never…” Chrom inhaled shakily, “I’ve never really thought about things like that.”

“Yeah? Well, look, Blue. You’re a grown man, and it’s not weird for you to start having those thoughts. In fact, you should start right now. Because I’m a nice enough guy not to mess around with my friends’ love lives, but not nice enough that I’m not going to snap up an opportunity if it presents itself. Got it?”

Chrom gripped his knees with both hands and chewed on his bottom lip.

“You’re… in love with Robin?”

“Look, that’s immaterial right now, and also, not what I said, if you bothered to pay attention. What I’m asking is if _you_ are, or if you want to be.”

Chrom fell silent.

He didn’t know what to think. Was he in love with Robin? What did love even feel like? He knew that being around her made him happy and, well, perhaps a little enthralled, but that happiness was similar enough to the happiness his other friends gave him. Perhaps it was somewhat more intense with Robin on account of their closeness, but… Surely, this was a _kind_ of love, wasn’t it? The word fraternity played in his mind again and again, and it somehow justified their proximity as something that he would never dare attempt with any other female friend. It was a rational kind of friendship, wasn’t it? And wasn’t love meant to be irrational? He’d read poems and heard ballads but he didn’t know if any of it felt true, at least where it concerned him and Robin…

“For crying out loud, this isn’t a final exam, Blue! What’s taking you so long?”

“You’re asking me to think about, so I’m thinking about it!”

“And?”

“I don’t know if I’m…!” Chrom lowered his voice, covered his face with his hands, “I don’t know. I know I care about her, but how am I supposed to know if it’s that kind of love?”

Gaius gave him a look of disgust, “You’ll know based on what you want to do to- I mean, _with_ her. How you feel about her with other people. Try thinking in _those_ terms.”

What he wanted to do with Robin?

“I… just want us to be near each other,” Chrom confessed, “To speak together. To share our minds. I want to be a pillar of support for her, no matter her choice. I’d do anything for her.”

Gaius sighed and hung his head, “I get all that, I really do. You guys have a bond, et cetera. What about if I'm sitting close to her? Have my arm around her? Whispering in her ear? How does that make you feel?"

"... Uncomfortable. Public affection is a bit..."

"For the love of... Okay, how about this: do you want to hold her hand? Take her on quiet walks along a river? _Kiss her?_ ”

Chrom was taken aback, eyes wide, “I-I would _never_ entertain such thoughts without express permission—”

“Gods above,” Gaius raised his face to the heavens and briefly uttered a silent prayer, his expression pained, “You’re a gentleman, Chrom. Good for you. I’m giving you permission, for this one tiny moment, to entertain such lowbrow thoughts as kissing someone you love, because in doing so, you will put all of us, collectively, out of our misery. So please. I’m begging you. Just tell me if the thought of kissing Robin makes your heart race in excitement or disgust.”

Chrom lowered his eyes to his hands as he played with the hem of his cape. Pushing away the feelings of shame, he allowed himself one moment to consider what he thought of… kissing Robin.

“On the mouth,” Gaius added, his tone warning.

Chrom nodded warily.

It was strange to think about. He had never… really kissed anyone on the mouth before. His upbringing had expressly forbidden such tomfoolery and he was meant to save himself for marriage, such is the way of Ylisse for men and women alike. He didn’t really know what it would feel like… but he had seen… tapestries. And paintings. It could be a passionate affair. He wondered if he and Robin would be tender instead.

What was a kiss, anyway? Wasn’t it an expression of one’s feelings?

If Chrom had to express his feelings to Robin, he would take her by the shoulders and… compliment her.

And… if pressed… perhaps, _perhaps_ … he might pull her close and… embrace her. Comfortingly. 

Rather than her lips, Chrom wondered what the bare skin of her palm would feel like, touching his ear or his cheek. He remembered her nakedness briefly, but the discomfort it usually brought him physiologically did not accompany his thoughts this time. Instead, he imagined what it would be like to be able to touch her face and to hold her hands without so much in the way. He realised they were innocent thoughts but… it was what moved his heart.

“… Earth to Chrom,” Gaius snapped his fingers in front of his face, “You look a million miles away.”

“I’m not sure how kissing Robin would be,” he finally confessed, “But… I know that it wouldn’t disgust me.”

Gaius heaved a heavy sigh, “Yeah, I figured,” he stood up and brushed the seat of his pants.

“I’m sorry, Gaius. I’m still…”

“It’s all right, Blue. We all have our flaws. Being slow on the uptake happens to be yours. If I can ask just one thing though, personally, what do you think of Sumia?”

Chrom went a little red, “I feel embarrassed thinking about her, to be honest.”

“Oh? Why?”

“To think that I might have been treating her so insensitively,” Chrom covered his eyes with a hand, “And to think that I was ever so daft…”

“Huh,” Gaius grinned for the first time, “Are you thinking of reciprocating?”

“By the gods, I’ve had enough,” Chrom scowled at Gaius, “I wonder how I can make it up to her, but I will admit that finally knowing what she feels has… put me in a difficult position. I have to admit I’m flattered, but I’m also not sure what I’m meant to do.”

“Your options are to reciprocate, decline, or ignore her affections.”

“I wish I’d never come to learn of them,” Chrom muttered, still red, “Romance is completely beyond me. Each choice is terrifying in different ways.”

“Welcome to adulthood, Blue,” Gaius said sympathetically, patting his shoulder, “But for what it’s worth, I think you know what you’re going to do. Eventually. Make it soon. Please.”

“Thanks are in order, I suppose. Frederick would never deign to have such a conversation with me.”

“That’s Mister Stuffy Shirt for you,” Gaius snorted, “There’s some date tree honey I saw on sale in the next town over. Buy me two jars and I’ll call us even.”

“All right,” Chrom sighed, but smiled. The smile grew tentative, “But… you and Robin…”

Gaius shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. I’m not in the habit of breaking the hearts of men.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as Chrom keeps shouting NO HOMO (well, NO HETERO in this case), I would like to shout COMMENT PLEASE if you've been enjoying this story so far


	15. Chapter 15

Growling, Lon’Qu jumped to his feet and began to undo the catches of his coat.

“This heat is absolutely abominable,” he groused, “I don’t understand how you can stand it.”

“Less fur helps, for one,” Robin said mildly. Lon’Qu’s response was a withering glare but she remained serene, smiling calmly despite how her eyes glittered as she closely watched Lon’Qu reveal inch of tantalising inch of rippling muscles. Chrom, who had been seated casually on the grass beside Robin, scowled at her reaction but couldn’t say anything.

“You wouldn’t happen to know a water spell, would you?”

“Oh, how I wish,” Robin’s somewhat sensuous reply made Lon’Qu blush and Chrom’s frown deepen, “I do think I’ve got some wind tomes on me.”

“Marvellous,” his voice oozed with sarcasm, “Do Rexcalibur me into the next kingdom.”

“Oh hush, you,” Robin said as she rummaged through her pockets, “What’s a little hurricane between friends?”

“Potentially, homicide.”

“But I’m sure you’re built of tougher stuff than that, aren’t you?”

“Hn. Flattery won’t help you here.”

“Gosh, but these robes are _thick_ ,” she grumbled. Robin made the quick decision to slip the coat off completely, which sent Chrom and Lon’Qu into a frenzy, unbeknownst to her. She’d forgotten how deep the cut of her camisole went and, apparently, the men had forgotten how ample her bosom was. With her robe splayed flat across her thighs, she had a much easier time locating a low level Wind tome and retrieved it with a flourish.

Though apparently she seemed to be the only one happy to have the book in hand. She glanced at both men in puzzlement.

“…? What’s wrong?”

Lon’Qu spluttered, unable to form anything coherent as he slapped a hand over his eyes (suspiciously peeking through a gap in his fingers). After several false starts, he finally managed to choke out, “Put your clothes back on, you harlot! You’re practically naked!”

“Don’t be such a child, Lon’Qu. I’m wearing more than you are.”

“Yes, but I don’t _need_ to cover up my chest!”

“Funny you should say that, because technically, I don’t need to either,” Robin’s tone was matter-of-fact, but her intention was a hundred percent for the sake of mayhem as she pretended to reach for the hem of her camisole and slowly began to lift, exposing her navel. Lon’Qu squawked indignantly, lunging towards her but aborting his momentum halfway, sweat beading across his forehead as he physically battled with the desire to knock her hands away versus his fear of coming into contact with her. He was in a half-squat, half-crawl not two paces from where Robin sat.

It was _hilarious_. Robin turned to catch Chrom’s eye – to share the joke – but she found, rather than someone who was biting back laughter, a man who was blushing to the roots of his hair, apparently pinned in place as he stared at her. She lowered her hands, puzzled by his reaction. She noticed his eyes following her movement, arrested briefly by her chest before he hastily met her gaze head on. His blush deepened further and, quickly, he turned his head away.

“… It was a joke,” she said lamely, “A pretty obvious one.”

Chrom’s laugh came a moment too late, wheezed and breathless and without any note of humour in it. Lon’Qu’s body drained completely of tension and he sank into the grass with a groan.

“No one knows when it comes to you,” Lon’Qu’s voice was muffled by the grass, “You’re a madwoman.”

“Hmph. Well this madwoman is not putting her robe back on.”

“You’re practically _naked_ , Robin.”

“I am not and you know it,” she huffed, smacking the heel of her boot into Lon’Qu’s bare shoulder. He twitched only slightly, “It _is_ hot out and I’m going to enjoy this nice breeze that’s just begun blowing. If you had any discipline befitting a true warrior, you’d avert your eyes. Better yet, you’d learn to focus on your enemy’s weaknesses.”

Lon’Qu stilled briefly before he raised his head and glared at her. She knew he hated losing and was going to take the bait.

“Fine,” he bit out, rising to stand, “I’m ready to begin.”

“Good,” Robin said pleasantly, “ _Wind!_ ”

“Gah…!” Lon’Qu hadn’t been prepared for the sudden spell and was knocked backwards several feet. Admittedly, she had concentrated a little too much power into it but, honestly, he needed a little bit of cooling off anyway.

In fact, she knew someone else who needed a bit of cooling off…

“Chrom, are you all right?”

“Hmm? Yes, I’m fine,” though he was deliberately looking at a spot in the horizon past his own shoulder.

“Your face is red,” and she shouldn’t, really, but she felt awfully cheeky today, “Perhaps you’re running a fever? Here, let me check…”

“N-No! I’m fine, really!” Chrom scooted away with each inch that Robin crawled closer. She had forgotten about her cleavage and noticed his attention directed thataways before he elected to turn his head away completely. She was being a little mean, perhaps, but _really_ , they were acting like teenagers.

Robin sat on her haunches. She effected a hurt voice, “You aren’t going to call me a naked harlot too, are you?”

“I would never…!” Chrom whipped around, freezing when he came face to face with Robin. She looked… not quite smug, but she certainly wasn’t distressed by any means. Her smile was sly and Chrom knew he’d been had. He closed his eyes and sank his face into his hands, groaning. 

“The lesson we are learning today, boys,” Robin said chirpily, “Is not to be a bloody fool around a woman, no matter the state of her dress. Now, chop chop, get to your feet; we’re wasting daylight, Lon’Qu.”


	16. Chapter 16

Chrom buried his face in his pillow. Could things get any worse?

First of all, there was the fact that Robin had been spending more time with the other members of the camp. She wasn’t avoiding him – in fact, Robin would engage him in long and pleasant conversations when they were both available – but he was fully aware that she didn’t linger the way she used to. It seems like the moment someone withdrew from the area, she’d decide it was a convenient time to go elsewhere too. And she always did have something to do. It… well, it _bothered_ him, more than he'd like to admit, but he knew he couldn’t blame anyone or anything for it.

And then there had been the dreams. Really, more like nightmares. He’d been waking up on more than one occasion in a cold sweat and a warm groin, because that eyeful he’d received not a week ago of Robin’s… bosom… as well as the sight of her pulling up her camisole and revealing fair, unmarred skin… That entire debacle was wreaking havoc on his mind. In hindsight, of course it was utter nonsense. It was just a little cleavage and just a little belly, but hearing her voice in that low, teasing tone as she went through the motions of undressing was just…

Chrom groaned. He needed to stop thinking about this. This was utterly unbecoming and even more embarrassing than his own blunders with Sumia. Where did the man who wouldn’t even consider a kiss with a woman go? What was _happening_ to him?

How on _earth_ could he face Robin like this?


	17. Chapter 17

And now, he was avoiding Robin.

Perfect.


	18. Interlude III

Robin’s first instinct was, perhaps, that she’d maybe gone too far with her little prank.

After the evening’s training with Lon’Qu, both he and Chrom spoke to her with a faint blush and a stiff upper lip, but things were, eventually normal. For the most part, if her robes stayed on, people tended to forget about what her body looked like underneath it. That joke she’d played seemed to be a thing of the past, by this point. Days turned into weeks.

But now…

Chrom refused to meet her eyes and seemed to make excuses to disappear from her sight. Is this what it felt like to be hurt by rejection? She knew that he was always unhappy when she quickly made her exit to avoid being alone with him, but she thought that she’d done it gradually, so he’d become used to her absence. To have him do the same, well…

It was starting to sting.

However, it could be something else. Maybe Chrom needed to settle something. Maybe it would pass. Or, maybe it wouldn't...

But she’d be fine. She’d get used to it. And, if need be, she'd confront him. After all, Robin was nothing if not adaptable.


	19. Chapter 19

“Er, are you all right, Chrom? You seem to be sighing an awful lot…”

“Huh? Oh,” Chrom blinked, hands on the pegasus he was helping brush clean, “It’s… nothing, really.”

“Are you sure? You know you can talk to me about anything. I-I mean, if you want! I’m just, um, c-concerned about you. As a friend. And that’s what friends are for! Shoulders to cry on! Or, uh, shoulders to lean on, if it’s not something you need to cry over.”

Chrom managed a half-smile, “Thanks, Sumia. Honestly, it’s nothing.”

“But if it were, you’d talk to someone, right?” She probed, “Like Frederick?”

“Or Robin,” Frederick said drily. He wasn’t surprised to see Chrom’s slight wince at the mention of her name. Sumia didn’t seem to miss it either.

“Is that what’s going on? Are you having a fight with Robin?”

“A fight? With Robin? No, of course not. What on earth could have given you that idea?” And despite his honesty, Chrom seemed truly glum. Sumia and Frederick exchanged glances.

“Have you tried apologising to her?”

“No,” Chrom brushed out a particularly tangled knot in the pegasus’ mane, “There’s nothing to apologise over.”

“Did… _she_ do something wrong?”

“Of course not. And if she did, she’s always the first to apologise over it.”

Frederick, standing by his own horse, was having very complicated emotions over what was happening. On the one hand, a rift between Chrom and Robin’s relationship was technically a good thing; even though he trusted her, none of them could be completely certain where her loyalties lie. Besides which, Chrom needed to create some distance between himself and an unwed and highly controversial, highly _visible_ woman. And a rift between them meant someone else could take up the space left behind, say, someone like… Sumia. Sumia was only an example, of course. It certainly could be any other eligible unmarried noblewoman, within or outside the Ylissian border, but it so happened that Sumia had managed to form a closer bond with Chrom, of late.

But on the other hand… seeing Chrom so miserable made Frederick feel… unsettled. And the thought that he could have a hand in such misery made him feel crushed by guilt. It was true that Chrom and Robin hadn’t done anything wrong _technically_ , but their proximity was truly improper, given Chrom’s position. And… well perhaps Frederick wished that Chrom would recognise that he did feel something deeper for Robin, because the topic of love was far easier to address than this foolish excuse for a ‘particularly intimate friendship’. And whether they choose to address their love in a way that split them up for good or helped them move forward together, well… Frederick was still uncertain on which side of the fence he stood.

And, all right, it was absolutely maddening to see them dancing around each other with no resolution. At the very least, _something_ should come out of this farce, even if it were a ‘I’m sorry but my heart belongs to another’ or even a ‘Our positions are too far apart, it could never work out’. Frederick always thought that Robin reciprocated Chrom’s feelings but the distance that he had helped artificially generate was threatening to end things between them for good. It would fizzle out before anything even began, like a firework that fails to ignite. And what kind of a resolution would that be?

And Frederick knew time was running out, because he’d noticed the new pendant around Robin’s neck and the sudden onslaught of physical contact that one thief had been lavishing on her, which, he noted with slight panic, she never seemed to reject.

It was entirely possible that Robin felt nothing for Chrom.

It was entirely possible.

And despite Chrom’s claims to the contrary, Frederick knew in his gut that Chrom was smitten.

Something had to happen. Even if the outcome was less than satisfactory, it would still be an outcome. This impasse was driving him _mad_.

(And maybe Frederick was feeling absolutely guilty that he could be the cause of Chrom’s grief.)

“Sire, if I may,” he said, clearing his throat, “Perhaps we should consider a return to Ylisstol? The months spent on the road is wearing the Shepherds thin, and you certainly look like you could use rest.”

“What are you talking about? I’m fine, Frederick.”

“Milord, you really are not. A change of pace would do you good.”

“I like mucking around in the dirt,” he grumbled, scrubbing the pegasus’ torso somewhat aggressively as a worried Sumia looked on, “And eating nothing but bear for a week straight. And sleeping on rock and sand. And being covered in the innards of the risen dead.”

“As, I’m sure, you’ll enjoy walking through the market, participating in the harvest fair, giving the entire camp the opportunity to rest in feather beds, and introducing our non-local Shepherds to everything Ylisstol has to offer: food, customs, clothing, histories,” Frederick interjected delicately.

Chrom paused in his brushing and looked up at Frederick over the back of the pegasus, “… do you think so?”

“Of course, milord,” he sniffed (Frederick was a consummate actor, one needed to be if one were to manage a pair of royal numbskulls), “Your tedious court duties would pale in comparison to the fulfilment you would receive from giving your fellow Shepherds the chance to luxuriate and immerse themselves in Ylissian culture. Why, imagine the happy, grateful faces if they were to try a traditional Ylissian honey loaf, or sample our fine selection of locally brewed meads, or parse through the royal library, or perhaps receive the gift of a clean, traditionally embroidered Ylissian garment.”

Sumia stared while Chrom deliberated carefully. Frederick was, nevertheless, a patient man. He waited calmly, despite his inability to control his tapping foot.

“Well, I…” Chrom began tentatively, “I supposed it would be good to check in on Emmeryn.”

“An admirable reason, milord.”

“I mean… you’d like to go back to your estate and sleep in your own bed, wouldn’t you, Sumia?”

Sumia gave a start, blushing slightly, “Who, m-me? Oh, well I’m… fine with anything, really! I do love camping with the horses and pegasi. But, well, home does sound mighty fine. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? And the harvest fair _is_ coming up…”

“It’s settled then,” Chrom nodded, “Thank you, Sumia.”

“Yes, thank you,” Frederick said.

“Oh, no! I didn’t do much!”

“Relay the marching orders, if you will.”

“Of course, milord. Shall I inform Robin?”

Chrom didn’t even flinch, which Frederick took as a massive victory, “Especially Robin.”


	20. Chapter 20

The march to the capital was light hearted and filled with chatter. There was very little for the Shepherds to do by way of dispatching brigands this close to Ylisstol and the weather was perfect for a good ramble along the countryside. Promises of an extravagant meal prepared by the palace cooks, hot perfumed baths and soft feathered beds had the group in high spirits. Chrom led the march on horseback, listening absently to the conversations taking place behind him. 

“Really?” A familiar voice spoke up, sounding almost breathless with excitement, “A hundred dancers with ribbons?”

“Yes, and they dance in very intricate formations so that their ribbons weave a pattern around the pole, which doesn’t repeat. It’s quite beautiful to behold, like a loom but cylindrical. Different regions within Ylisse will weave different patterns according to their local traditions, but none of their poles are as intricate as Ylisstol’s.”

“We’ve got the biggest number of dancers, too. Probably because our pole is the tallest in the halidom.”

“… is what she said!”

Chrom snorted as that outburst was rewarded with laughter and gasps. Someone dutifully smacked Vaike in the back of the head for his vulgarity and as the din calmed down, Cordelia spoke once again.

“Once the ribbons are weaved, the temple elders will gather around to lead the Ylisstol choir in a hymn to give thanks to Naga for her bounty. The children of the choir will, as per tradition, have a free run of the town, either throwing coloured sand or giving small honey loaves to passers-by to represent the different types of bequests Naga graces her followers with.”

“So wear something that’s easy to clean,” Stahl’s voice sounded strained, “It took me two whole weeks to clean out the sand from my best tunic.”

“Oh, yeah, those kids can be vicious,” Sully chuckled, “Some of them have the face of angels, but look at them the wrong way and… Pow! All of them start pelting you.”

“Is that why the Ylissian dress is white?” Robin asked.

“Yeah, traditionally the sand used to be powdered dye, so after the festival you would then soak your dress in water and leave it to dry in the sun. The dress would then represent your grace for the year until the next festival.”

“A few years ago, the Council of Lords of Ylisstol decreed the substitution of dye with sand so that the dye wouldn’t cause damage to clothes and shop stands. Some of the kids get a bit, uh, excitable, shall we say.”

“It helps that dye is getting more expensive.”

“Well, yeah, there’s that too.”

“Some towns still grind their indigo together before the festival.”

“Oh man, I remember doing that as a kid. I’d feel nostalgic but then I remember how horrible the entire errand was…”

“My mam would smack my knuckles with her switch if I didn’t pluck the stamen of the indigo properly.”

“Sand is an interesting substitution,” Robin interjected, “Flowers do sound more romantic.”

“It’s because it’s a special type of sand that helps fill in the cracks between the cobbles in the road. That why our streets have an interesting sheen; the dye and sand colour the stones and it's quite a sight, especially when the sun shines off of it.”

“I see,” she said, “How very interesting indeed.”

The conversation turned to the local taverns and choice desserts, and soon, they were being welcomed through the streets of Ylisstol. The trumpets blared and they came in with all the pomp associated with the royal guard. The streets were lined with onlookers. Chrom waved his way through, nodding in recognition at a handful of merchants and knights that he knew personally.

From the corner of his eye, he caught a glance of Robin bending for a young boy, who placed a wreath of flowers on her head. She touched it, looking delighted.

Chrom smiled.


	21. Chapter 21

Honestly, how could he have forgotten what a good, long soak in the palace was like? It was _heaven_. He had absolute privacy and could stretch his entire body out in the water, even just float around for a bit (he may have pretended to be a drowned corpse for a few minutes, for nostalgic purposes). After a banquet in honour of their return and a quick pow-wow with Emmeryn, night fell. Something Chrom missed was the ability to gaze out into the night sky through the window of the bath from on high in one of the towers, without fearing exposure… save from a wandering pegasus knight (though that error had been rectified in their patrol routes after the _third time_ , you’d think a woman would learn). 

He wondered if the guest bath had a similar view. He had no doubt Robin would appreciate it all the same.

Chrom closed his eyes and submerged himself, scrubbing his face a final time in the hot water before he rose to his feet and climbed the steps out of the bath pool. He dried himself lazily before putting on the tunic he usually reserved for bed, honestly unable to care enough to tie the waist of either the tunic or his dressing gown together, propriety be damned. The hour was late and he wasn’t naked. Besides which, he’d discard the gown and untie the tunic for bed anyway. It was a waste of effort and Chrom deserved to be lazy in these things after working so hard for months in the field. 

The cotton of his tunic was soft and fine, a pristine white garment that was embroidered with the Ylissian Edelweiss and his family crest. He rubbed it between his fingers, thinking of how easily it would rip to shreds on their march. It was a comfort and a privilege, to be sure, and he reminded himself to count his blessings. 

As he exited the bath chamber, he idly considered visiting Lissa to check in on her before turning in for the night, not quite committing to any particular decision until his feet had taken him in front of her door.

 _Oh well_. Chrom rolled his shoulders and knocked.

“It’s open!”

He rolled his eyes and pushed the door so it stood ajar as he leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed, “Lissa, you really should be more discerning of who gets to enter your…”

He paused. She had a guest.

“Sorry to intrude,” Chrom said, but Robin shook her head with a smile.

“It’s quite all right. Lissa and I were just chatting. I’m to go to the market tomorrow to pick out a selection of clothes.”

He nodded, “Wise, given the horror you call your field uniform.”

Robin gasped, a hand on her chest, “How dare you!”

“That’s exactly why you need more than one change of clothes, Robin,” Lissa giggled, “Could you even scrub the stink of the Risen out of your robes?”

“It would take a miracle, perhaps,” she said wryly, “But… for obvious reasons, I would rather not be rid of my only set of clothes, gross as they may be.”

Lissa looked blankly at her, “Why not? If you’re partial to the design, I’m sure our tailors can do a bang up job. Your clothes are being held together by Risen guts, Robin. Risen guts!”

She laughed quietly, “I know what you must be thinking but… The clothes on my back, my tome and my wits; they are all that I awoke with. With so little memories before our meeting, to cling onto something as inconsequential as that is a privilege I’m entitled to, I think.” Robin lowered her eyes to her hands, folded prettily in her lap, “… Unless that really is a foolish thought.”

Lissa had jumped up to her feet and clamoured to Robin’s side, sitting shoulder to shoulder as she took her hands in her own, “No! Of course not! I’m sorry I was so insensitive. Duh, what was I thinking? We’d spent so much time together that I’d forgotten about your amnesia. You should hold onto whatever you want. And if anyone so much as turns their nose up to your outfit, I’ll give them a what-for!”

Robin chuckled, relieved at Lissa’s outburst. Chrom allowed the moment to linger before he cleared his throat.

“If I may…”

Robin raised her head to him, “Yes?”

“It may not be my place to say it, but… although I have no doubt that keeping your mementos close at hand is your prerogative, it would be folly to place too much importance unto them all the same. Do you remember the sword and magic tome you had in our first battle?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure, in hindsight, they were significant tools as they marked our first fight together. But when they outlived their usefulness, you discarded them, did you not?”

“… I did, in fact.”

“I admit that it may not be the fairest comparison to make. Clothes are different from tools. And with tools, the stronger you grow, the better the tool that you need. And when you move forward, you look to new things because… well, I’m just trying to say that clothes are like tools, in a way. They have a purpose, and that is to protect our bodies. And tools are only useful if they are used. If they are not used, they cease to become tools and turn into decorations.”

“Chrom! Do you really have to do that tactless brick routine right now?”

“No, no, Lissa, he’s right,” Robin laughed, patting the back of the princess’ hand. She looked at Chrom and smiled, “I suppose you’re saying that my robes are a memento of the past, and I should be looking to creating new mementos, moving forward.”

Chrom coughed, “A good summary.”

“What? How on earth did Robin make sense of your babbling? That almost sounds like a proverb, coming from her.”

“All right, you,” Chrom stood straight, hands on hips, “I’ve had enough of your mouthing. It’s bed time.”

“What! You can’t tell me what to do!”

“Oh no, I wonder what it is I’m doing right now?”

“Yeah? Well you’re not the Exalt! Emm is!”

“But Emm’s not here, is she? And when the Exalt herself is absent, her heir is in charge. And the heir says: Bed time.”

“Oh, you just wait, Chrom. I’m going to find her a handsome suitor and she’ll have an adorable baby and that baby’s going to _dethrone_ you!”

“I’m waiting…?”

Robin laughed as she held Lissa back from pelting Chrom with pillows. When the danger had been suitably mitigated, she stood, smoothening the imaginary creases in her own dressing gown, which, Chrom noted, she had tied neatly around the waist, indicating a slightly more shapely figure to her body than her usual outfit did.

“I suppose it is late,” she said, walking to Chrom’s side, “And a bed is calling for me, to be honest.”

“Aw, what’s the point of you staying in the palace if we can’t have a sleepover?”

“This isn’t the only night we have here, you know.”

“… Fine, I guess. Good night, Robin. Get lost, Chrom.”

“Want me to tuck you in?” He asked with an unrepentant grin. He quickly pulled Robin through the entryway and shut the door in time to hear a soft _thump_ from the other end, where Lissa had expertly aimed a cushion. He chuckled.

“This is rather new,” Robin said with a considering look.

“What? The outfit? Ugh, don’t lecture me please, this is honestly one of the things that do not matter. Considering what you’ve already seen of me, I think this should be the least—”

“No!” She laughed, somewhat nervously as she glanced away. Robin cleared her throat, “What I meant was… you and Lissa. You’re usually less bratty.”

“When we’re on the road, sure,” Chrom shrugged, “I have to make sure everyone’s safe at all times. I don’t have the luxury to take it easy. Here, though? That’s what we pay the palace guards for. I should be allowed to let my hair down a little.”

“True enough,” she said, a private smile on her lips, “You manage to surprise me again and again.”

“Oh. Uh. Is… that a bad thing?”

“That depends. But… usually, no. It’s not a bad thing.”

“Ah,” Chrom said, “Good.”

“Right.”

Chrom saw her fidgeting somewhat restlessly as they stood in silence in front of the door, her eyes casting this way and that. He took the opportunity to look at her. She was freshly bathed and her hair shone, unlike what the camp baths were capable of. Without the heft of her robes or the weight of her office, Robin seemed much smaller. She was a tall but slender woman to be sure. And they were dressed identically, though he had to admit she wore the outfit better than he ever did. Then again, he realised his appreciation extended into slightly different territory than just what was aesthetically pleasing. And, well, he was definitely aesthetically pleased.

“Allow me to walk you to your room,” Chrom finally said, breaking the silence, offering her an affectionate smile.

A moment’s hesitation granted him the response of a smile that was equally tender. He gestured to the hallway and they walked side by side, him with his arms behind him, walking with a somewhat large but jaunty gait, and her with a hand gently gripping her wrist, loosely held in front of her.

“I must admit, I was rather surprised to hear I had a room in the royal wing, rather than the barracks.”

“Really?” Chrom’s tone, however, seemed unconcerned, “I thought the overture to be natural?”

“Honestly, when I said yes, the looks I got… I wondered if I’d made such a blunder and was meant to decline the invitation.”

“Well, declining would have been the normal response, I’d wager,” Chrom said with a chuckle, “I’m glad you didn’t though.”

“I think you’re implying that I have no manners, Your Highness.”

“A gentleman would do no such thing.”

“So you _are_ implying that I have no manners.”

Chrom laughed and shook his head, feeling easy and loose for the first time in weeks, like he could actually _breathe_. Maybe it was because it had been too long since he’d been alone with her, talking about inconsequential nonsense. He realised how much he missed their chats.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” 

“Well, I really do need more than a single change of clothes, so I’ll have to step down to the market. I think Lissa said she’d call a tailor as well. I’ve managed to save up a decent amount of gold but I’m not quite sure if the royal tailor is someone I can afford.”

“If it helps, the tailor comes with the palace guest room.”

“Well, when you put it _that_ way, who am I to reject?”

“Good. Glad that’s settled then. Are you enjoying your room?”

“Goodness, Chrom, where do I even begin? I never imagined such luxury. It’s all incredible. And to think there was even a window in the bath. I could bring out my star charts and conduct a little astronomy while I soak,” she paused and laughed, “Until a pegasus knight flew by and robbed me of my peace of mind.”

“Those mishaps have been cleared up, I’ll have you know.”

“ _No._ It’s happened before?”

“Yes, but thankfully, it’s all in the past now.”

“Well, I can imagine why they’d want to catch a glimpse.”

Chrom’s chuckle was a little strained. He cleared his throat. It was hardly the first time Robin had implied she found him attractive, but he still didn’t quite know how to respond. He did, however, realise it made him deliriously pleased to know she thought him… well, she had never used the word _handsome_. What had she said? Ah, right: ‘ _Not all that ugly to look at_ ’. The memory made him chuckle again. A companionable silence fel between them and soon they arrived at her room.

“Rest well, my lady,” he said, with a bow, gratified to hear her giggle. She curtseyed and pushed the door open, pausing when she realised Chrom was waiting for her to step through. She appeared to be considering something before she released the handle and leaned up against the doorframe, facing him.

“Something you need?”

“I just realised the walk and subsequent conversation was rather short, and my inviting you in to chat would be rather inopportune, especially in a palace where such a thing is far less acceptable, and given the hour.”

“Ha, I’d say so.”

“I… suppose it wasn’t you who suggested my living arrangements?”

“Would it bother you one way or another?”

“It’s just a thought that weighs on my mind. I wonder about it. Honestly, I wonder if I’m trespassing on the royal family.”

“I know you’d want to be close to the royal library, and I want you close. For any sudden decisions I’d need to make, of course,” he tacked on in a hurry, “You’re a prized strategist, after all.”

“Ah, so you want me just for my mind, I see.”

“Your body’s not that bad, I suppose.”

They laughed. As it subsided, Robin looked up at him shyly.

“Would you… care to join me in the market tomorrow?”

“Alas, I will be occupied for several days leading up the Harvest Festival. I stay in a palace for a reason, you know. It hardly pays for itself.”

“Oh… Well, that’s a shame.”

“The other Shepherds will be happy to take you around, fret not.”

“ Right… Of course. Though…”

“Yes?”

“Well, I hope I won’t completely be deprived of your company while we’re in Ylisstol.”

His gaze softened, “Of course not. I’ll be sure to make time for you, right after I figure out how to dump all my paperwork on Frederick.”

Robin giggled. They bade each other good night.


	22. Interlude IV

Honestly, what was _wrong_ with her? She’d seen him _naked_ , gods’ sakes, one would think a casual bedroom look would hardly undo her. And yet, there he stood, tall and confident and cutting a dashing look in his traditional garb. It had to be the bath, Robin thought. Perhaps he’d scrubbed away a layer of muck that had been a constant travelling companion and emerged as a butterfly would from a cocoon, clean and handsome. 

Well. Handsomer.

But the change was so drastic! It couldn’t just be the bath…

It was his demeanour, she decided. Poised, controlled and exuding a lazy confidence that was…

… attractive? He was so _regal_ and charming…

Robin groaned. She knew exactly what it was. It was the kind of thing that Gaius had, that cocky charm, which was probably why she had such a soft spot for that sweets-addled fool. But _Chrom?_ Chrom was courageous and heroic, of course, but he was also an idiot who tended towards socially awkward when it came to personal matters. Where had _this_ come from? Was it because he was on home turf? Had he been drinking? Was he finally, god forbid, loosening up? Maybe it had been the bath. Maybe the hot water and perfumed oils had relaxed him.

But goodness, was _this_ the Chrom they could look forward to when he took his final steps into Exalthood?

“If he wasn’t breaking hearts before, he sure will be now,” Robin murmured to herself, feeling foolish. There was a reason she’d been keeping her distance. An affair with Chrom was the last thing she wanted. It was the last thing they needed. She’d done well for herself, keeping her feelings for him fond without them turning to passion, and she wasn’t going to let herself fall now.

And, well, the way things had been going, she figured that he’d come to the same conclusion.

What was this?

Robin blamed her pounding heart for making it difficult to read him, a rarity in and of itself. _What was this?_ Had he overcome his awkwardness because he had made a decision? Had he finally decided to turn his heart towards someone? After all, he had rejected Robin’s invitation to the market, kindly but it was obvious for what it was. Whereas in the past he would have leapt at any chance to spend time together, he’d not only turned her down, but he’d turned down the invitation to be seen in public together. Frederick was right; Chrom was a different man in the field, and a different man in the capital. She’d seen it before her very eyes, hadn’t she? Things were different because here, he was a _prince_. And Robin? Robin was just…

 _Halt, Robin,_ she told herself, _Calm your thoughts._

No… it couldn’t be as simple as that, surely. He did have his royal duties. It was true he had changed, but she didn’t know for what reasons. She could only wait and see. If she was right, he would begin formally courting Sumia now he was back in Ylisstol. According to what she’d been told, the Harvest Festival would culminate in the Night of Tokens, where exchanged tokens would mark the beginning of a courtship or engagement. It commemorated a famous Ylissian legend and she was told there were ale houses with gambling pots amounting in the tens of thousands of gold on who would be wearing tokens received from so-and-so. Apparently, Chrom’s pot was rumoured to make or break fortunes. 

Robin closed her eyes and forced herself to exhale slowly.

Everything was going according to plan. She’d arranged for this to happen. And yet…

What _was_ this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S LOVE, ROBIN. IT'S CAAAAALLED LOOOOOOVE.


	23. Chapter 23

Was ‘good night’ to be the extent of it?

In that moment, Chrom heard his patience snap in half. He turned on his heel and half-ran down the corridor, grabbing the edge of Robin’s bedroom door before it closed fully. Robin quickly opened it for fear of hurting him, surprised at his behaviour.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Chrom gripped her left shoulder with his free hand and kissed her on the mouth, pushing her into the room as he closed the door behind him and pressed her up against a nearby column. She stumbled backwards, clutching onto the front of his tunic for support, hesitating for only the briefest of moments before she responded in kind and kissed back with abandon.

It was electrifying. Chrom barely had any time for relief, every part of him was aflame as he felt, for the first time, their bodies touching through the thin cotton of their tunics, no gloves or armour between them. She ran her hands down his chest, and each touch unravelled his control the further her hands roamed. Chrom turned his head and deepened the kiss, gratified by her enthusiastic response, and grabbed one of her legs, hitching it up over his hip. He ran his hand along her bare thigh, felt her tunic pooling at his wrist. He began at the knee and moved higher, feeling his body aching for her as she allowed him to reveal herself to him.

They broke apart for air, panting, Robin’s hands in his hair, pulling him close.

She whispered his name, “Chrom…”

—and he awoke breathlessly, staring into the darkness.

It took a moment to remember where he was before he finally relaxed and felt his body sinking back into the mattress. He closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands, slowly inhaling and exhaling in an effort to calm his raging pulse. He forced himself to listen to the buzzing emptiness of his room, the light creak of his bed whenever he moved, the distant hooting of owls from the forest. Slowly, he felt the fog in his mind clear.

His dreams had never been so vivid. They had never been so _graphic_. No need to glance down; despite the lack of nudity, the dream had done enough to awaken another part of him that he wasn’t even sure he could entertain, given the contents and the person involved. He was still panting from the adrenaline of the dream, unable to even feel guilt. No, what he was feeling was different. It was… _exhilaration_. 

He touched his mouth.

They had kissed.


	24. Interlude V

Despite his assurances, Chrom barely showed his face in the days leading up to the Harvest Festival, except for very briefly at breakfast, where Robin dined with the family. Their conversations usually revolved around what new thing Robin had experienced in the previous day and what her upcoming plans were. Shop talk, as it so happened, was banned from the breakfast table as their schedules seemed to revolve around nothing but their duties for the rest of the day, and breakfast was the only meal that they consistently shared as a family. It was a sweet sentiment and Robin was happy to oblige, though she often wished she could join Chrom in his study afterwards (where he took his morning tea) to discuss politics and news of the realm, perhaps render some assistance. 

However, Chrom and Frederick had told her on separate occasions that there was little she could do as his work was directly related to festival preparations, and that she should take the opportunity to explore the capital as well as the royal library while she was unoccupied. She could read between the lines. It had all seemed so exciting at first and yet, as the days went by with fewer and fewer sightings of Chrom, Robin soon came to the realisation that she had been hoping to experience Ylisstol with _Chrom_ as her guide, rather than Shepherd of the day. 

And after their evening rendezvous in the royal wing, Chrom stopped checking in on Lissa (where Robin sometimes hopefully waited) until it was the dead of night. He was working to the bone, it seemed. 

Robin couldn’t fool herself anymore. She was struggling with Chrom’s absence. 

It was humiliating to think about, because hadn’t she done the exact same thing to him? And look how well he managed to cope. Robin felt miserable for every day that went by and the distance between them stretched. He was always so cordial to her when they did manage to speak, but never for long, and never in private. 

_It’s only while we’re in Ylisstol_ , she told herself.

But out in the field wasn’t where Chrom was meant to be. His original duties lie in Ylisstol, as a prince in the palace. _This_ is how things were meant to be.

Was it wretched to wish that there would be another Risen attack in a far flung province of Ylisse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should know that the theme song to this fic is basically [Can't Fight This Feeling](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zpOULjyy-n8) and you can bet I am melodramatically belting it out to the screen as I type like a madwoman and imagining Chrom in a 90's style music video wearing shades and with the sunset behind him, Robin's face faintly juxtaposed in the sky.


	25. Chapter 25

“No! Stop! Don’t do it!” 

A gaggle of giggling youths sprinted down the street, arms wound back as they pelted a running Virion with coloured sand. Robin and the others could only laugh at the sight, having the presence of mind to surrender their fates and garments to the mercy of the choir children from the start of the annual rite. Once they had satisfied their pint-sized aggressors, the Shepherds were rewarded with honey loaves for their valiance and they sat by the fountain in the middle of the market square to join the audience for the remainder of the event. It was quite the joy to watch. The butcher was apparently a prized target of the tradition but he had never once been successfully pelted (and there were gambling pots on him, too). The sight of a heavyset man with a thick brown moustache and unwavering poker face running into the small gang of white robed children and carrying a handful of them – one seated around his neck and one in each arm – away as their high pitched squeals and laughter followed was something Robin would never forget.

And finally, when the temple bells tolled, the running ended. The crowd walked at a slow pace, worn out by events of the day. 

“Oh, this year was quite marvellous, wasn’t it?” Sumia asked, sighing in contentment.

“I honestly hadn’t expected Libra to win that eating contest. I would think a man of the cloth wouldn’t condone gluttony.”

“I must admit that I had a wager going. I will be conducting my penance later, however.”

“I’m going to guess that wager was against Gaius.”

“Hey,” Gaius’ tone was sore, “Just because it’s true doesn’t mean that saying it won’t hurt my feelings.”

“Your feelings are hurt only because you lost.”

“Hey!”

“Forget that! Did you see the Dance of the Loom? I could hardly believe my eyes!”

“Oh yes, it was spectacular!”

“It really was,” Robin began to gush, “When you said it involved a hundred dancers, never did I expect that pegasus knights would be involved! It absolutely took my breath away. The formations were so intricate, and they weaved so expertly between the ribbons in the air and on the ground. I was worried that there would be tangles or accidents with each tumble and flourish, but it was so clean and professional.”

“That’s the Royal Pegasus Guard for you,” Sumia and Cordelia glowed with pride, “Believe it or not, those manoeuvres are actually aerial battle formations.” 

“No,” Robin breathed, her mind racing a mile a minute as she replayed the dances in her head and re-appraised it with new eyes, “That’s absolutely ingenious.”

“Yeah, talk about hitting two pegasi with one stone.”

A groan, “That joke is old and utterly terrible.”

“I was waiting all evening to tell it!”

“You should have kept on waiting.”

“Honestly, Vaike.”

“You tell that joke every year whenever someone explains to a visitor.”

The chatter continued until the Shepherds finally dispersed to change into clean garments in preparation for the night festival which reportedly included some rather dazzling fireworks that had been specially imported from Chon’sin. Robin had only just taken the road leading back to the palace entrance when a familiar figure caught her eye.

Chrom was walking down the street, briefly greeting each citizen who called to him in the midst of their cleaning. Robin barely hesitated before jogging to his side.

“If it isn’t the man of the hour himself.”

“Robin,” he said with pleasure (which made her relieved and somewhat enthralled), “Goodness, it feels like it’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“You’ve been busy and I’ve been… occupying myself.”

“Not for naught, I should hope. Did you enjoy the Harvest Festival?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget it for as long as I live.”

“Good,” he said with satisfaction, “I’m pleased to know those hours locked away in my study were fruitful.”

“An apt analogy, Your Highness.”

“I am quite clever, aren’t I, my lady?”

“I’d say so. You delivered quite the speech after the morning mass.”

“Ah, how was it? I didn’t have enough time to prepare my text, unfortunately.”

“You wrote it yourself? I’m impressed.”

“My life’s ambition is fulfilled.”

Robin rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile. The easy banter they had was something she missed. All her misgivings melted away in that moment, and she wondered how on earth she could ever have been so anxious.

“I see you were a victim in the running of the children,” Chrom eyed her wryly.

She pinched a lock of her hair that had been stained by the sand, laughing when she realised what a sight she must look, dishevelled and covered in dye.

“I never thought I’d have cause to be terrified by children. Little did I know.”

“Honestly, royalty has its perks: Such as when being confronted by a small group of children who aren’t sure if the prince is fair game.”

“I’m sure one or two of them would be brave enough not to care.”

“I may admit that a little, shall we say, _joke_ can go a long way.”

Robin arched a brow at him, “What manner of joke?”

“ _A single drop of colour of me, and it’s off with your heads_.”

“You didn’t.”

“I’ve never thought I could do anything that would make an entire mob of children run away screaming from me so quickly.”

“Maybe I should use that line next time,” Robin said once she had recovered from laughing.

“Hmm, somehow I don’t think it will work if you’re not a prince.”

“I’m sure I could pretend to be a scary Plegian mage.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to try it out next year and tell me.”

 _Next year_ , he said. He wanted her around. That made her smile.

“Ah,” Chrom said, coming to a halt, “You are free now?”

“I was thinking of a bath and a new change of clothes,” she replied, somewhat puzzled, “Afterwards, probably to see what hubbub about the night festival is all about.”

“It’s much of the same from the morning, though it’s more food and less games. The true focus of the night festival is the fireworks. And, well, I just happen to have a spot I’m apt to sneak away to when I need to remove myself from the confines of royal duty, and it’s rather a good one, I have to admit.”

“You? Shirk your responsibilities? I don’t think I could condone such behaviour, Your Highness.”

“I think you’d do well to agree that I deserve it, given all the speaking and waving and judging I’ve done today,” he said flatly, arms crossed.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because I’m the prince. And beheadings are things they’re known for, you know.”

“And we wouldn’t want that hanging over our heads now, would we?”

“You’ve spent too much time around Vaike,” Chrom chuckled, “Are you coming?”

“Are you sure I shouldn’t at least change first?”

“I’ll pretend you’re in an evening gown with pearls in your hair. Festivals are supposed to be messy, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“All right,” she finally conceded, “But if I get an earful for being improperly dressed, I fully expect you to tell them I was protecting you from an escaped wyvern.”

“Done, my lady. Now, follow me, if you’d please…”


	26. Chapter 26

Chrom led her to a clearing that appeared to sit on the border of the palace grounds, lined with trees on one side and some hedges towards the foot of sloping land, granting them privacy in addition to a rather lovely view of Ylisstol. In the far distance, the palace sat quiet as a shadow, an unfelt presence, the bustle of servants too far away to be heard. A river made a natural crescent across the land, rippling downwards towards the canals in the heart of the city. He sat not too far from the river bank, on soft grass that had patchworks of wildflowers in full bloom. He lay down on his back, letting out a bone deep sigh, and closed his eyes.

“Quite the getaway, Chrom,” Robin said quietly, unwilling to break the stillness.

“I come here, sometimes, when I just need to be alone. You’ll keep it secret, won’t you?”

Robin’s expression softened, “Of course. Thank you for inviting me to such a private place.”

“Don’t mention it. Ha, but seriously, don’t actually mention this to anyone. I hardly need Frederick breathing down my neck more than he already does.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Robin turned her gaze to the landscape below, fingers idly toying with a blade of grass. The sky was orange as the sun began its descent, and the light it cast over the city made it feel dreamlike. The heat of the day’s festivities was cooling and all the energy that she’d expended in enjoying herself seemed to slowly drain away, like the rays of the sun, and a general drowsiness overtook her.

“What a beautiful place,” she murmured, “I… wonder if I’d ever seen such a sight before.”

Chrom opened his eyes and turned his head towards her, “Before our time together?”

“Yes. All the things I’ve experienced today, I want to say I’ll never forget but… who am I to say that, really? I could very well have lived this day in the past.”

“Robin…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she shook her head and smiled at Chrom, “Honestly, it’s not me being regretful or maudlin. I just… sometimes think about the hole in my memories. When we march, I barely have time to think about anything but the well-being of our army. Coming here to Ylisstol though… It’s been a holiday, from my duties and the fighting. And now that my mind is free to wander, I can’t help but think about who I am. Who I used to be.”

“You are who you are,” Chrom raised his body and leaned his weight on his elbow, reaching forward to place his other hand over hers and give it a squeeze, “What matters is who you choose to be, Robin. I know your origins will always be something you are concerned about, and you have every right to be, but please don’t let it cast a shadow on everything you have accomplished. There aren’t enough words of gratitude to express what you’ve done for me and for Ylisse.”

She looked at their joined hands. The moment she nodded and murmured her thanks, he smiled at her and let go.

They sat together idly, watching the sun set over Ylisstol, he splayed on the grass and she with her legs to the side. Robin began plucking at the grass idly again when a perfumed scent filled the air, wafting with a breeze that had begun to pick up. Petals floated past, small and white. She glanced down and plucked one of the wildflowers blooming near her.

“This is quite the familiar sight… and somehow I cannot place where I’ve seen it before.”

Chrom looked over to see what she was inspecting, “That’s the Ylissean Edelweiss. It’s stitched into all the royal finery, including your tunics back in the palace.”

“Oh, of course. I thought it had just been a pattern, but the real thing is quite beautiful.”

“It’s a hard fought beauty,” Chrom chuckled, “There’s a good story behind why the founders of Ylisse chose the edelweiss as the royal flower.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Well,” Chrom began, relaxing his posture, still partially lying on the grass, “Ylissean soil is not particularly fertile. Farmers have worked the land for generations, of course, but ours is a land of plains, better suited for grazing cattle than wheat fields. The Harvest Festival is such an important tradition to Ylisseans because growing food had always been a trial, and so when the harvest was successful, it was cause for celebration. 

“As you can probably see, flowers are not something that Ylisse is particularly famous for, with exceptions for very particular areas within the halidom. It’s plains as far as the eye can see, except for that volcano all the way on that island over there.”

“That would be… Origins Peak?” Robin ventured.

“Yes, that’s right. And there is a very particular kind of flower that can only be found there, and now, here: The Ylissean Edelweiss, though, that’s not what it was called in the past.”

“What was it called, then?”

“The ash flower. There are a few stories behind the name, but usually people remember that it’s able to survive in the heat of a volcano. It’s such a dainty thing, and not easily propagated, so very few ever knew of its existence. It remained secluded in the volcano until, one day, the king who would be the first Exalt of Ylisse climbed the volcano in despair. He had vanquished Grima with the aid of the Fire Emblem, but the chaos the dragon had wrought had made the lands barren and his coffers empty. The surrounding kingdoms feared his might should he choose to begin a conquest against them and so they began to threaten him with trade embargoes, to starve out his people, unless he agreed to give them each a gemstone in order that he could not use the Fire Emblem against them.

“As you can imagine, it was quite heart wrenching. He had his pride as a king, divinely guided by Naga, and yet he was told that his people would die if he did not willingly surrender the very proof of his holy appointment. He thought to throw himself into the volcano rather than to live with the shame of capitulating, but as he readied himself for the molten rivers deep in the belly of the earth, he saw it: A pure, white flower, growing from the cracks of the volcano.

“He thought to himself, how could he throw away his life, and the lives of hundreds of thousands of his subjects, over his pride, whereas a single untainted flower refused to die in the raging heat of an infernal volcano. He was inspired in that moment and plucked the flower, making the decision to remove the gemstones from the Fire Emblem. And on Origin Peak, Naga heard his vow and bestowed upon him the brand of the Exalt to honour him for his selflessness to surrender the gemstones for the sake of his people. When he returned to Ylisstol, he placed the flower on his desk, but it blew through the window where he thought he had lost it forever. But it’s a hardy flower, the Edelweiss, and it landed on a patch of grass. And, well, it grew. And propagated. And he was so filled with joy to see our infertile soil covered in white blossoms that he decreed it as the royal flower. And that’s the story of the Ylissean Edelweiss.”

“Wow,” Robin exhaled, not realising she had held her breath, “That’s quite the tale. Who would have known such a small thing could have such a significant effect on the course of history?”

Chrom laughed, “Well, it’s a story. I don’t know how true it is, but it’s part of our heritage as Ylisseans.”

“With good reason, too. Whether or not it’s all fiction, it’s quite wonderful to think that something small and perhaps inconsequential does, in the grand scheme of things, matter. Beautiful things matter as much as useful things.”

“Despite its beauty, the Edelweiss stands for determination, strength, purity and poise,” Chrom sighed, “Things I could use a great deal of right now, to be honest.”

Robin looked at Chrom silently. He looked tired, worn out. His eyes, usually filled with laughter and passion, were dim in the light of the sunset. She remembered when she’d first asked Frederick if she could stop by how worried he’d been about the long hours Chrom spent poring over letters and trade agreements. It was a worry tempered by approval, but worry all the same. She’d been denied access then, because it was true that she had little involvement in the court life of Ylisse beyond her role as a Shepherd. She was in Chrom’s confidence, not the Exalt’s. 

She offered the Edelweiss to Chrom.

“For you,” she said, “May it grant you the strength you need.”

He stared at her, eyes slowly gliding down towards the flower in her proffered hand before eventually softening his gaze. He accepted the flower with a quiet word of thanks.

“I should give you something too.”

“Oh, Chrom, I have everything I need. You needn’t go to any lengths.”

He smiled at her as he sat up properly, rolling his slightly aching shoulder. He plucked a deep red flower from the base of its long stem which had been swaying nearby, offering it to Robin who took it with a slightly puzzled look in her eyes.

“What is this?”

“It’s a Bird Lily. It’s… usually considered a mourning flower. One normally places it in funeral wreaths. But I’m not giving it to you to extol the imminence of your death or anything like that,” he explained hurriedly, “As a flower, it stands for longing and remembrance. And, well… I… Despite all that I’ve said, I understand how much your old memories mean to you. I… hope that you find what it is you’re looking for.”

She gazed at the flower in her hand. Unlike the small, regal Edelweiss, the Bird Lily was exuberant and lively. She glanced up at Chrom.

“You’re quite knowledgeable in the language of flowers, Mister Sword-and-Muck.”

“Oh, hush. It’s part of an archaic courting etiquette that no one observes anymore but, for some strange reason, I still had to learn anyway.”

Robin chuckled, “I see. I graciously accept then. Thank you. What you said about my robes and creating new mementos moving forward… It meant a lot to me. And so does this gesture. Really, I can’t thank you enough, Chrom.”

“Likewise,” he smiled.

Above them, rockets shot through the air and burst in a spiral of light, blooming like flowers against the night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything in this chapter is made up, based on this canon explanation from the Fire Emblem wiki:
> 
>  
> 
> _During Ylisse's founding, the period known as "the Schism", the other countries of the world thought that Ylisse would be too powerful if it held both the Falchion and the completed Fire Emblem. The five gemstones in the Emblem were distributed to each nation, leaving the Falchion and the Fire Emblem with the white gemstone, Argent, in Ylisse's care._
> 
>  
> 
> As ever, if you're enjoying this story, please do leave a comment.


	27. Chapter 27

“You’re awfully chirpy today.”

“Oh, you know; this and that,” Chrom, who had been humming a tune as he finished untangling the mane of his horse, replied cheerfully despite the nonchalant words.

“What, Frederick finally let you out of your cage?”

The man in question raised his head from where he had been saddling his horse, looking ruffled, “I beg your pardon, but His Highness has been perfectly self-motivated in the completion of his duties. Furthermore, I take offence to the idea that I could possibly lock up a member of the Ylissean royal family as though they were some… some _wild beast_.”

“Of course not, Frederick,” Chrom said placidly, patting the neck of his own steed, “I’m more like a pet rather than a beast, aren’t I?”

“Milord!”

Frederick’s huffing and puffing went ignored by the Shepherds who laughed at the joke. They were gathering informally in the stables, technically off-duty in the aftermath of the Harvest Festival. Some rings had been exchanged the night before, and if it didn’t show on their fingers, it certainly did in the blissful smiles the newly bound couples would share with one another when they thought no one was looking. The halidom was at peace, the festival had been a success, they were sleeping and eating well, and everyone was happy, with some wedding bells tolling in the not too distant future. Could things get any better, really?

“Well that’s new!” Stahl said from where he was leaning casually against a post.

“What is?”

“The button hole of your collar,” he pointed, “That an edelweiss?”

Chrom glanced downwards, touching the blossom briefly.

“Quite the surge of patriotism going on there, eh Chrom?”

“Oh, no, well,” he began with a laugh, turning slightly red but unable to stifle how pleased he was, “I… accepted a token.”

The stable went deathly still.

“You _what?_ ”

“Someone offered you a _token?_ ”

“And you _accepted?_ ”

“Who was it?”

“Chrom, a small fortune depends on your answer!”

“When will you marry?”

“Is it a Shepherd?”

“I can’t _believe_ you!”

As Chrom struggled to answer the cacophony of questions of the Shepherds crowding him (still red and still smiling), Frederick looked towards Sumia, whose smile had faded and whose face had gone pale, and then to Cordelia, who looked as though she had just been slapped. Concerned, he walked first to Sumia and placed a hand on her shoulder. She gave a start, turning to meet him with barely concealed disappointment.

“Are you all right?” He asked her quietly. She forced a smile on her face, which made his heart ache.

“Of course, I am, Frederick,” she responded, a slight crack in her voice. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath, “I… I’m fine. Why shouldn’t I be? Isn’t it… Isn’t it great? I should be asking if _you_ are all right, considering he went and did something like that without talking to you first… Or… Or did he talk to you about it?”

Frederick shook his head. Sumia mouthed a soft ‘oh’ in response.

“I, um, I have something to attend to. If you’ll excuse me…”

Sumia took a step back and briefly caught Cordelia’s eye. She walked briskly to the stable exit. Cordelia quickly followed after her. Frederick hesitated, concerned for Chrom himself, but decided that it was for the best to watch out for the ladies. He quickly followed the path they had taken. But as he closed the door behind him, he realised there was someone there.

What he didn’t expect was for there to be Robin, standing up against the wall, clutching a book to her chest, a conflicted expression on her face.

“Robin? Are you all right?”

She looked up at him, chewing on her bottom lip thoughtfully, still troubled.

“Frederick,” she finally managed, “What is a token exactly?”

He frowned, “The usual thing you might expect. It doesn’t have to be a ring or handkerchief. As long as it’s a gift of an overtly romantic gesture.”

“Ah,” she said, “I’ve just… never heard of flowers being given as tokens before. They’re rather… impermanent, don’t you think?”

“If it represents emotions that are fleeting, it is up to the recipient to accept it according to their own judgement. Robin, are you sure you’re all right?” 

“I’m fine,” she said with a sigh, “A bit discomfited, perhaps. Quite the surprise to hear a woman was bold enough to actually present His Highness with a token on what was apparently a night of romantic symbolism.”

“The Night of Tokens, of course,” Frederick seemed to relax his shoulders at the implication that Robin was unaware of the tradition nor the circumstances surrounding Chrom’s token, “Usually it is men who offer tokens to their lady loves, though those tokens tend to be of a more… concrete significance, say an engagement ring.”

“Do women not offer something in return?” Robin asked, baffled.

“Their acceptance of the token is what they gift. Wearing it is an even greater gift. It is a rare thing for the other party to reciprocate with a token of their own.”

“And if they do?”

“Well…” A loud sound of armour clanging against wood came from the barracks. Frederick quickly remembered why he had stepped away in the first place, “Pardon me, but I have to attend to someone.”

“Of course,” Robin nodded, exhaling slowly, “I have some things to think about.”


	28. Interlude VI

This was definitely not how Robin pictured things going. 

She had completely forgotten about the Night of Tokens, despite having factored that into her general army management plan (and she did have one, which entailed prospective marriage partners for a number of the Shepherds, Chrom and Lissa included, which would promise a union of harmony, productivity and longevity, though of course she always considered their own feelings) because… dare she say it, she had been completely distracted by Chrom’s companionship. She had been completely worried that his scarcity would inevitably lead to the end of their platonic intimacy, but the moment he had returned her attentions, she came undone. What kind of tactician was she, to be so easily swayed by matters of the heart?

How could she have been so careless in gifting him a single plucked flower? And of all nights, on _that_ particular night?

More importantly, how on earth was she to know that Chrom viewed it as, as Frederick put it, an ‘overtly romantic gesture’?

Robin’s head was spinning. She thought it was reasonably clear that the edelweiss had been given under… well, definitely under affectionate circumstances, but it wasn’t as though she had pledged her heart to him or anything of the sort. He clearly sought support and was uplifted by an Ylissean folk story, so that’s what she thought to grant him. And insofar as tokens were concerned, could there be anything as unromantic as a flower? Let alone a _patriotic_ flower? She’d overheard Stahl; he hadn’t connected it to romantic overtures in the least.

Unless Chrom believed that, by accepting the edelweiss as a token, he accepted that any… thing that happened between them could only be brief and fleeting. That’s why no one _gave_ flowers as tokens; flowers withered so quickly!

Could she trust in that logic? Egads, but she had to remind herself that Chrom, lovable and wonderful man that he was, was also often a complete moron. Could she trust him to have thought so thoroughly on this topic? If it were Frederick, things would be far easier to parse… but then again, if it were Frederick, she wouldn’t have to tread on so many gods damned eggshells, be it with regards to his feelings or to his position.

But then Chrom had given _her_ a flower too. She’d mindlessly accepted it because, well, it was truly a _nice_ gesture and not that all awkward given that he’d just accepted a plucked blossom from her. And she wouldn’t have thought anything about it except…

Chrom viewed her edelweiss as a token. He’d said as much. He was _wearing_ it in his buttonhole.

What was her flower supposed to be?

What on earth was she supposed to do, or think?


	29. Chapter 29

Robin was nothing if not determined. Under normal circumstances, any ordinary person would retreat to figure out their next step, or even choose to avoid the other party until the entire incident began to fade in freshness from memory. However, Robin had neither the luxury of time nor the personal capacity to do such a thing; she was still the chief tactician of the Shepherds and ironing out whatever… misunderstandings had happened between the general and herself were part and parcel of her duties. And, despite her own feelings of gratitude and affection, she refused to allow personal matters to taint their professional duties. 

“Where are you heading to?”

Robin slowed to a halt, smiling at Lissa and managing to stifle the troubled emotions she harboured from her face, “Just a chat with Chrom, if Frederick would be so accommodating.”

“Boy, I’d say you’d probably get a fair shake at it. Chrom’s been completely hopeless ever since he received the you-know-what.”

The smile faded somewhat from Robin’s face, “What do you mean?”

“ _You know_ , staring out the window, sighing every five minutes, generally on cloud nine, barely notices what goes on around him. Whoever gave him the edelweiss must have made an impression if he’s asked for a plant to be brought to his study.”

Robin felt her control slipping as her emotions became more flustered with each word that came out of Lissa’s mouth. These were consequences that she had feared from the outset. She’d been so _careful_ , especially after Frederick’s warnings, and yet she had forgotten to consider how Chrom might generously interpret things differently to her. But how could he? Their minds generally turned in the same ways. They had never differed so gravely on something before. Robin could feel her head pounding. The Ylissean Edelweiss truly lived up to its reputation; who would have thought that such a small thing could have such a large and real effect on people? Certainly not her.

They stepped through the threshold of the antechamber together, Robin still worrying her lower lip with her teeth as Lissa continued chatting about the entertainment value she’d been deriving from Chrom’s mystery suitor. They stopped only in front of the desk a partially armoured Frederick was occupying. He looked up from the papers in his hands, remaining seated only when Lissa quickly gave him a dismissive wave of her hand.

“Milady. Robin. How may I help you today?”

“I… know Chrom was completely unavailable in preparation for the Harvest Festival, but I wonder if I could spare half an hour or so? I have a few… I just haven’t spoken to him in a while. Privately, I mean. If it’s convenient for you, you could accompany us to the gardens below and perhaps give us a bit of room? Within running distance, of course.”

Frederick nodded easily, rising to his feet, “Of course, Robin. And I thank you for extending me the courtesy of continuing to stand guard.”

Lissa blinked, “Wait. What? Really? You’re letting him go?”

“I daresay Chrom has never been so diligent in his work before,” Frederick replied wryly, gesturing for them to follow after him, “Before your arrival, Robin, Chrom was apt to disappear not a few hours into any paperwork he had been assigned, usually through the window by the fireplace. I must say, his newfound work ethic is… inspiring, if not completely refreshing. I have no doubt that it was your influence that rubbed off on him.”

Robin was taken aback at the generosity of opinion, “I’m… touched, Frederick. I didn’t think you’d thought of me in that way.”

“I can only speak for what I see, and I see that, despite a touch of controversy, you do a world of good for him,” Frederick nodded, resting his hand on the door handle and opening it for them, “And with how industrious Chrom has been, an hour’s rest for tea and a chat is the least I could arrange for... him…”

The study was meticulous and neat, no doubt Frederick’s handiwork, with piles of documents on the main desk, and an unsigned sheaf of papers in front of where the leather wingback chair stood. 

The window by the fireplace was open and swung in the breeze. In the corner was a pot of a small edelweiss bush, in full bloom.

“He’d never escape now, huh?” Lissa remarked slyly as Frederick, despite the impassive face, began to turn an interesting shade of red.


	30. Chapter 30

“… Alley oop!” 

Chrom landed on the other side of the wall with both feet on the ground. He looked back up over the patch of sky that peeked from high above it and let out a slight chuckle. It used to be quite the challenge to scale the outer walls of the palace. His time on the field had made him far more lean and fit, however.

He sighed. It was a lovely day, much too lovely to spend locked up inside a drafty castle. He figured he’d been well behaved enough that Frederick wouldn’t care _too_ much for a much needed day off. Besides which, he’d managed to smuggle out a mage’s cloak, which he unrolled from under his arm, shaking out any stray dust, and swept it over his shoulders to fasten at the neck. Perfect. It had no hood, which was less than ideal, but Chrom wasn’t about to go out of his way to change his outfit. He just needed a long walk, perhaps a nap on the grass and a meal at the local tavern. If the fates were so kind, he might run into Robin, who he vaguely recalled saying something about sampling the local mead… or was she to walk through the bazaar? No matter. He was certain he’d spot her eventually.

“… weren’t you the one who said he deserved a break?”

“Supervised!” That voice, completely lacking in humour, could only belong to Frederick, “How many times have I told him he is to inform me whenever he chooses to leave the palace? Yes, he can defend himself, but he does not know the minds of brigands and their despicable means—”

“Frederick, please,” and _oh_ , that sigh belonged to Robin, “I hardly think you need to tag along with me.”

“On the contrary, madam! If he’s sneaked out, I have little doubt he will be attempting to make his way to you. And I will be by your side the entire time, lying in wait.”

Ooh. Chrom liked Robin well enough, but he wasn’t too sure he’d willingly subject himself to _that_. It was a tough decision to make, but he’d made it quickly enough. _Sorry, Robin. And thanks for the distraction._

He slinked off in the opposite direction, only catching the tail end of their conversation as they continued to walk into the market.

Chrom found himself in the shopping district, which wasn’t as densely packed as the town square or market, but would serve his purpose well enough. He doubted Frederick would think to look for him here, and the tavern was not too far if he used enough back roads.

In fact, he spent quite some time meandering past a number of store fronts, deliberating whether he was in the mood for a shepherd’s pie (heh) or a lamb cutlet when a pair of hands grabbed him, one clapped over his mouth, and bodily _yanked_ him into an alleyway filled with discarded carts used by merchants for selling foodstuff. 

His back slammed up against the brick wall. This assailant was shorter than him by two inches, and the familiar feel and smell of leather, although clamped over his mouth, made him relax his grip on Falchion, which was hidden under his cloak, as he easily recognised who it was who was manhandling him so discourteously. 

Robin peeked out past his shoulder onto the main road. He gently prised the grip she had over his face and said, with some amusement, “Do you treat all your victims this way, my lady cutpurse?”

“Hush, you. Frederick’s on the prowl.”

“I know. That doesn’t explain why you’ve dragged me into a dark alley. To make him suffer a seizure at the sight of us, perhaps?”

Robin straightened her back so she could glare at him through narrowed eyes as she crossed her arms. Chrom could barely help the giddy grin that spread across his face. He imagined he looked quite foolish.

“Honestly, he was breathing down my neck like a vulture. I never imagined how annoying it would be.”

“Too right,” he replied with a knowing look in his eye, “I had hoped you would keep Frederick’s attention on you so that he wouldn’t bother me.”

“You saw us? Together?” At Chrom’s nod, Robin scowled at him, “You were willing to sacrifice me?!”

He grinned again. She smacked his arm. “Honestly, Robin, I’m surprised he let you out of his sight.”

“Well, if you’d stuck around for long enough, you would have heard me telling him you were apt to run away if you saw us together. Lo and behold, my prediction came true.”

“Oh no, what am I to do with a tactician who knows my behaviour too well? If she ever colludes with my enemies, it will be the end of me.”

“Ha-bloody-ha, yak it up, you royal arse,” Robin grumbled, but Chrom was delighted to see it lacked any of the previous bite, “I never imagined you’d sic your watchdog on me just for a few hours of freedom.”

“You would too, if you had an overzealous guard who commissions _naked patriotic sketches_ of you for mass distribution. The proximity grates on me at the best of times.”

“… that’s fair. I accept your apology.”

“I don’t recall apologising.”

“That means you definitely should be apologising to me.”

“You’re not wringing out an apology from me, because I’m definitely not sorry.”

“Oh trust me, you’ll be even sorrier if you don’t.”

“I seriously doubt—”

The banter died on his lips as she stepped forward and clapped a hand over his mouth again, attempting to hide behind one of the merchant carts. Just in time, too. Voices approached, stepping with all too familiar gaits. They huddled close, trying to make as little noise as possible.

“… honestly, just give them a break…”

“… will not! Give them an inch, and they disappear from sight! It’s bad enough…”

“… doesn’t have to be watched, you know…”

“… thought she’d have more common sense! Especially given…”

Something dripped onto Chrom’s nose. He blinked once and looked up. 

The skies were grey and thick with clouds. He’d barely even noticed the weather change. In a matter of moments, a light drizzle began to fall. He looked down at Robin, who looked somewhat put out, and reached forward to cover her head with the hood of her robe which, he finally realised, was a copy of her original outfit. He suspected Lissa had a hand in this and could only smile.

His gesture, however, gave Robin a start, and she could only watch him through the rim of her hood, unable to speak.

“… think they may be hiding over there?”

“… in _this_ weather? Can we just go…”

“… feel free, but I will remain…”

Robin hesitantly reached forward and touched his shoulder. Pressed flat against a wall, Chrom was getting drenched.

“You’re getting wet,” she murmured. He looked up and their eyes met. 

With a bit of awkward shuffling, Chrom managed a quick smile and pulled his cloak up over their heads. “It’s hardly ideal,” he began softly, but the rest of his explanation slipped away from him as he felt Robin naturally lean closer to come under the protection of the makeshift cover. Her head was drawn downwards so he couldn’t see her face under the hood, but the moment felt… oddly intimate. Although he could, dimly, register both Frederick and Lissa walking away, the pounding of his heart seemed to drown out most other thoughts. 

And yet, if one were to peer into the alley, one would only be greeted by the sight of a pair of stragglers taking shelter from the rain.

 _This must be love_ , Chrom thought idly, and the words felt hot on his tongue the moment he thought it. His pulse quickened with a rush of adrenaline, blood threatening to colour his face red. No. It couldn’t _possibly_ be…

… could it?

He’d only nursed the barest hope. He’d never dared dream…

And yet…

As he placed a hand on her cheek, she raised her head to meet his eyes.

He felt dizzy. In that moment, it felt as though lightning had struck and his mind was racing with every realisation. It was absolutely true. He was a fool to realise so late, but the very words he’d shied away from made him feel like his heart would burst out of his chest. A weight came off from his shoulders. He wanted nothing more than to shout out the declaration from the rooftops. 

How could he not have known something so obvious?

He saw her eyes drop to his mouth. His pulse raced.

Chrom slowly lowered his head and leaned in… but paused.

Her hands were on his chest, holding him in place. Not pushing or pulling, but… unmoving. Waiting.

A moment passed, neither of them moving. They stared into each other's eyes, mesmerised.

“Frederick’s gone,” she said finally said, voice strained, and was that a blush on her face? “We’ll be as wet as drowned rats out here. We should… we should head for shelter.”

The spell broke. Chrom returned to his senses and took a step back.


	31. Chapter 31

The sight of the crown prince and the Shepherd’s chief tactician dripping onto the rug of the foyer was enough to send Frederick into convulsions. He swept through like a hurricane, barking orders for hot baths, checking Chrom’s temperature and ruffling his hair into a fluffy towel he’d conjured from thin air. Chrom fought him every step of the way, which Frederick foresaw and resisted, and eventually Chrom threw off his attentions with an exasperated agreement to obey his demands. Frederick watched him stomp away (only to be harassed by the Shepherds who had gathered there) and then drew his gaze to Robin. She stood, hood pulled back, gently wiping her we face with the towel that had been hung around her neck.

Her expression, however, was blank. 

“Pardon me,” Frederick shooed the other guards and Shepherds away as he took Robin by the arm and pulled her aside for some privacy. He dropped his voice, “Did something happen to Chrom?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, did something happen to you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then why do you look like this?”

“I got caught in the rain while running away from you. Anyone would be miserable.”

Frederick hesitated. He knew she was lying. Gently, he cupped her chin with his fingers and raised her head, so she would meet his eyes. He knew he was stepping over some boundaries, being this personal, but he was worried about her, personally.

“Please tell me the truth,” he said softly, and the change in tone was not lost on Robin, who seemed to feel embarrassed by the attention. She was about to open her mouth when a whistle cut through the din. 

It was Vaike, grinning at them like he’d just won the Harvest Festival lottery, “Hey lovebirds, maybe get a room in this many storied palace?”

They stared at him before comprehension dawned. Frederick dropped his hand and Robin took a step back, but the damage had been done. The other Shepherds were tittering over the sight they made, only about half of them in jest. Chrom had a strange expression on his face as he looked at them. Frederick tried to non-verbally communicate his exasperation at the situation, denial at what was being assumed of them, but whether Chrom could read it was another matter altogether. And when Chrom met Robin’s eyes, she turned her head away.


	32. Chapter 32

Wrapped in blankets and fresh out of a hot bath, Chrom was seated in one of the chairs in his room, resting his cheek against a fist, gazing out the window. Frederick entered, carrying a fresh tray of tea.

“Something on your mind, milord?”

“Sort of,” he murmured, “A lot of things have happened.”

“Funny you should mention that. Robin said nothing happened at all.”

He raised his head and turned to meet Frederick, “Really?”

“You look uneasy.”

“I _am_ uneasy. I didn’t think… well…”

“Yes?”

“There are a… few things I’d have discussed with you,” he finally sighed, leaning back into his chair and twining his fingers together. Frederick took the seat next to him, pouring the tea.

“I’d answer anything you ask of me.”

“Well… what are your…thoughts… of Robin?”

Frederick winced, “I assure you, whatever Vaike insinuated downstairs was not in the least bit true. We have grown very close, that is undeniable, but nothing towards his accusation has developed between us.”

“I noticed she wasn’t pushing you away.”

“Sire,” Frederick struggled, “Put your trust in me, foremost. She was feeling vulnerable and I was attempting to comfort her. No more and no less.”

Chrom said nothing for several moments before he finally sighed.

“I suppose you have no reason to lie to me.”

“I would be honest in these matters, as you know full well.”

He sighed again and returned his gaze to the outside world. Frederick hesitated before clearing his throat.

“You mentioned there were other things you sought to discuss?”

“They matter little now.”

“If I myself am permitted a question then…”

“Yes?”

“Are you in love?”

Chrom let out a puff of laughter, turning his head, once more to Frederick, looking rueful despite the smile, “Why do you ask?”

“I… only wish to know. As a friend.”

Chrom’s smile faded and his gaze fell, “Yes. I am.”

“Who with, that she could make you so despondent?”

“The one who offered me my token.”

“I don’t understand, sire. Shouldn’t she be utterly receptive to your feelings, in that case?”

That wry grin returned, “It wasn’t given to me _as_ a token.”

Frederick was shocked.

“It was a joke, honestly. I kept waiting for someone to realise it, but no one did.”

“So you were not given a token at all?”

“I… hesitate to affirm. I did receive a gift, and it _was_ offered to me in affection on the Night of Tokens.”

“… but it was not a gift of love.”

“No,” he replied easily, “It was not a gift of love.”

“May I ask who?” 

“Pray, don’t,” Chrom sighed, “For I fear she doesn’t love me at all. And I wouldn’t want you to meddle.”

“I… see. Are you certain…”

“Yes, Frederick. I am certain. As ever, thank you for your confidence.”


	33. Chapter 33

Frederick left Chrom in peace, conflict written on his face. This was something he wished to discuss with Robin, who had become a comrade in managing Chrom’s affairs and who knew too well about how his heart moved, but Chrom had thanked him for his confidence. How could he bring himself to utter a word now?

Frederick was sorely tempted to break that vow.

But he couldn’t. He was proud of the trust he had earned.

Instead, he could only watch over Chrom and Robin worriedly as any attempt at reconciliation floundered with their newest marching orders.

The Shepherds left Ylisstol the next morning.


	34. Interlude VII

Nothing needed to be said.

Things would return to the way they were.

As they should be.


	35. Chapter 35

“I can’t believe she refuses to leave,” Chrom entered the tent, removing his gloves and throwing them down onto the war table, “She’s ordered us away, for what? To put herself in danger?”

“Peace, Chrom,” Robin’s voice was soothing as she followed in after him, trailed by Frederick and Lissa, “It’s a show of faith. By sending away her most valuable force, she is trying to emphasise the sincerity of her calls for peace talks.”

“There was an attempt on her life, Robin!” Chrom shouted, pounding his fists on the table, “We’ve been patrolling Ylisse to clean out the rest of those gods damned Plegian rebels! Why do you think we returned to Ylisstol? For a pleasure trip? For the Harvest Festival? It was to ensure the Exalt is _safe_! And how safe can she be now, having sent me away, which is exactly what the Plegians want? I wield Falchion because she refuses to!”

Having remained silent throughout his tirade, Robin calmly replied, “Do you speak as her brother or as the general of the army?”

He faltered, but the angry gaze burned on, “My role is that of both.”

“But you’re allowing one role to blind you to your other responsibilities.”

“Would you leave me to die in a field, because I ordered you to?”

Robin was taken aback but steeled herself, inhaling slowly as she met Chrom’s outburst head on, “If it was for the best possible plan at that given point in time, I would.”

“Wonderful,” he dropped himself into his chair, “You’re beyond reason.”

“I would do it because I trust you,” she said, stubborn but patient as a saint, “Just as Emmeryn trusts you. Her plan is simple, but vital, and as the crown prince of the realm and the leader of a small militia, sending you as the head of the diplomatic delegation negotiating a peace treaty is not only politically savvy, but also strategic. You’re surrounded by a band of fighters, and can, yourself, fight. A group that would ordinarily be vulnerable under these circumstances is strong, because of how we are suited for this task. No one else but you can accomplish this.”

“She is right, Your Highness,” Frederick exchanged a brief glance with Robin, nodding.

Chrom sat in silence, fingers twined as he leaned his forehead against his hands. His breathing was even and his posture was stiff, but eventually, he raised his head.

“Just because a plan is logical doesn’t mean it isn’t utter folly,” he finally said, less angry than before, but still in ill humour. The room seemed to heave a collective sigh of relief. 

“One does not have to like the commands issued by one’s superiors,” Robin said gently, “I know my decisions often seem like folly to many of the Shepherds, but have they not always been made with the best of intentions?”

“Hnn.”

“I understand that you worry, as her brother. And despite the weakened defences of the palace, following the infiltration of that band of assassins, she has made her decisions with only the best considerations in mind. You know, in your heart, that she is asking you to do the right things. That’s why you march, despite hating the order.”

“Damn you, Robin,” Chrom sighed, burying his face in his hands, “Damn you for knowing me too well. Can’t a man throw a tantrum in peace?”

“It is unbecoming of a crown prince, sire,” Frederick interjected, smiling at the weak chuckle Chrom rewarded him with. 

“I hate this,” he said dejectedly, leaning back into his seat and sinking into it, “An attempt on both our lives, and she thinks the next wise move is to separate us.”

“If an assassination attempt were to succeed, better one at a time than all three royals together.”

“Plegia has more than one assassin on its payroll,” Chrom replied icily, “And being together means our strength becomes one.”

“But what if you’re all held together in a single cell? Or you’re held to ransom for the lives of others? In an instant, death could claim all three of you,” Robin countered, “I apologise if I sound cold, but the Exalt is correct in making this decision. You are stronger when you are apart.”

“And is this mission not entirely an exercise in futility? Plegia has had designs on us for decades. It is as good as a blood feud. Once we arrive at their doorstep, are we to expect that they will not surround us and swallow our forces whole, diplomatic banner be damned?”

“That’s why I’m here, Chrom. I _will_ make it so that we can negotiate safely. And if they do not choose the path of peace, I will guide you out of the valley of death. You must _trust_ me, Chrom.”

Chrom was scowling but he could say nothing. Lissa glanced at Robin warily before she decided to excuse herself, taking Frederick with her as her guard. Robin and Chrom remained in the war tent, silence stretching between them for several minutes.

“Is there anything else that troubles you?” She asked softly. 

“What does anything else matter when I am potentially leaving my sister to her own demise? And my own band of friends and fighters to our deaths?”

“… shall I leave you?”

“No,” Chrom sighed, taking a deep breath before he unrolled a map of the region and smoothed it out over the war table, “Stay. As you say, I must trust you and I must trust Emmeryn. Chart the quickest course so we can be done with this accursed mission.”


	36. Interlude VIII

Your Grace,

I must apologise for the undoubted surprise you must feel in receiving an unsolicited missive such as this, from such a humble servant of the realm. Nevertheless, I feel it is my duty to express my opinion as one of the leaders of the delegation you have sent to Plegia. I fully understand that it is not my place to comment on such matters whereby your proclamation has already been made, but I would strongly urge that you reconsider several decisions, as I have written in the letter below. These appeals are made only with your and the halidom’s greatest well-being in mind.

That Plegia is the realm’s greatest enemy is no lie. Given their multiple attempts, so thinly veiled, on the lives of the Ylissean royal family and their constant declaration that Ylisse wages war on the grounds of Ylisse’s refusal to surrender the Fire Emblem, there is little to deny their thirst for blood. I recognise, however, that your desire to negotiate a peace with them is commendable and far beyond the capabilities of many a rational man. In due course, your orders that the Shepherds, as a small militia, march to Plegia with the crown prince at its head for peace talks is certainly an intelligent strategy, for showing sincerity by drawing away the main attacking force from the capital, for emphasising the importance of the talks by choosing your heir as the leader of the delegation, and for separating the heir from the Exalt, should anything befall one or the other.

I have, however, some suggestions regarding follow up action that you may want to consider:

Given the indefensibility of a palace that is both lacking in guards as well as the protection of the Shepherds, Your Grace should consider leaving behind a body double and stealing away to a more secure location. Remaining incognito until the need for further diplomatic action would be wise.

It may be wise, perhaps, to disguise yourself as a guard, but not with the Pegasus Knights Squadron, as it could give away the fact that the Exalt is among them. 

Despite your optimism, I must admit that the likelihood of peace talks occurring and succeeding are slim at best, and the halidom must prepare for a potential invasion. It is at this juncture that the Shepherds are currently planning on several escape routes should negotiations turn sour. I have no doubt that there will be casualties among us.

If it pleases Your Grace, perhaps you would consider a brief rendezvous with the Shepherds en route to Plegia? It would serve a number of the suggestions posed above and would enable further discussions on the outcome of the delegation to Plegia, in addition to less rational concerns such as addressing the melancholy of the crown prince and princess at your separation.

I am faithfully yours.


	37. Chapter 37

“—honestly Blue, how much longer are you going to go on with your head up your royal behind?”

Chrom looked up at Gaius, glaring harshly despite how much he was panting from exertion. Falchion was lying on the grass beside him, just within reach. Gaius was bent over, hands gripping his knees, looming in from above his head, barely breaking a sweat.

“What?” He asked gruffly.

“No denials, huh? What I’m saying is you’re spending an awful lot of time on the practice grounds rather than doing whatever it is you usually do.”

“And what, pray tell, is it that I usually do, Gaius?”

“Y’know. Leader-type things. Look through maps. Discuss strategy. Check in on the others. Argue with the Stiff. Break something.”

“Pardon me if I’m not constantly on form.”

“Yeah, I mean, everyone has their off days, but you’ve been a real drag since we left Ylisstol. Something on your mind, Blue? You usually have fancier footwork when I’m wiping the floor with you.”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

“You’re welcome, but that’s really beside the point.”

Chrom wheezed out a tired sigh, closing his eyes, “It’s not that weird for a Shepherd to… work off some steam through sparring.”

“Hoo, must be a hell of problem if you’ve been cutting grass with your royal kitchen knife.”

He winced, “That bad?”

“Blue, buddy, I’ve seen twelve-year-olds that can handle a blade better than whatever you call your angry mowing. Then again, the twelve-year-olds I know do tend to be tanners and brigands…”

“All right, I get it,” he sighed, “Things are… hard, is all.”

“Yeah? Well, sorry to break it to you, but things aren’t going to get any easier from here on out.”

“I know that.”

“You think maybe you should stop giving people such a hard time for doing what they’re meant to do?”

Chrom fell silent briefly, “Has it really gotten that bad?”

“Oh Blue. You’ve turned into a bridge troll. Any time someone approaches you, you try to bite their heads off. And when they bring up our marching orders for whatever reason, you look like you want to strangle them. I mean, we do get that this is tough for you, but y’know, we’re in it together. It’s not like we like this situation any more than you do.”

Chrom sighed again, bringing both hands up and covering his face with it, “I know all of this rationally,” he said, voice slightly muffled.

“But you’re only human,” Gaius nodded, “Still, humans have the distinct advantage of being able to adapt to survive. And if you wanna survive, you’re gonna have to adapt. Maybe try to have a decent conversation and field alternative opinions instead of trying burn a hole into Robin’s lovely face every time she talks to you.”

Chrom lowered his hands and looked up at Gaius.

“Morale’s not gonna get any better when our leader and his right hand woman can’t even be in the same room, y’know.”

“I…” Chrom glanced away, “I suppose I’m upset with her. For… diving headfirst into the plan without so much as a blink. I usually appreciate her bluntness and pragmatism, but this time, her words just… they cut deep.”

“’Cause family’s involved, Blue. Ain’t that normal?”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m just a pawn on a chessboard,” he sighed, “Is that foolish, given that I’ve designated her our tactician and strategist? Her role _is_ that of a chess master.”

“Nah. I get it. She is kind of calculating, and you _are_ a royal. I think that just comes with the territory. But…” Gaius trailed off, “Despite all of that, I know she plays that part because she cares.”

Chrom exhaled softly, “That’s true. After all, I play my own role.”

“That you do,” Gaius nodded, and then offered his hand with a smile, “Now how about doing some leader-type things for a change?”

Chrom chuckled and accepted his hand.


	38. Chapter 38

“Chrom,” Robin blinked, “This… is a surprise.”

“I’ve been neglecting my duties,” he said coolly, nodding once in her direction, “A poor general is one who does not ensure his soldiers are in fighting form. Thank you for your diligence in my absence.”

“Of course. It… It was my pleasure. I mean, it’s my duty too, of course.”

Chrom strode past her and began talking to Libra, who was in charge of ensuring medicinal herbs and potions were stocked. She could only stare on wordlessly, at a loss for what to say or do. Chrom had been positively icy with her in the beginning, ignoring and avoiding her for what she knew to be callous remarks about the Exalt. It seemed he only talked to her if he was forced to, but he never spared her a second glance. Even so, despite knowing that this was for the better, it still hurt. 

Yet, one day Gaius had flashed her the thumbs up and Chrom had greeted her with some sense of normalcy.

Which was nice. It was… Honestly, it was _great_ after their relationship had appeared to freeze beyond repair. Not that she could blame Chrom. Even Lissa had given her a wide berth after that incident. 

Still.

What could hurt more than being avoided? He spoke to her and looked at her but not with the same measure of warmth. And he never seemed to say more than was absolutely necessary. Chrom was someone with a lot of pride, Robin knew that, and yet she also knew she couldn’t apologise for her remarks. To quote Frederick, the prince had to grow up some time soon.

“Milady Tactician,” a tired voice called from the entrance of the munitions tent. She uncrossed her arms and walked to meet the speaker.

“Dispatch for you,” the messenger said. She nodded and dug out five gold coins as his fee, which he quickly pocketed.

“There’s food and drink, should you need to rest,” Robin said whilst tearing open her letter, eyeing the wax seal carefully. It hadn’t been compromised and appeared legitimate. She was only slightly aware of his affirmative response before he left her. Her eyes quietly scanned the words, written in an elegant and flowing script.

The letter was brief but powerful. She re-read it twice before folding it and placing it in her robes.

Robin took a deep breath to steady herself.

“Chrom,” she touched his arm delicately once she arrived at his side. He turned to meet her, “A word?”

“Of course,” he sounded slightly uncomfortable but followed her out into a more private location in the woods near camp, “You received a message?”

“Keep calm, if you will,” which was a rich thing to say, considering how much Robin felt like fidgeting, “It is from the Exalt.”

“Emm? What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“Nothing has happened to her,” she put both hands on his shoulders firmly in an attempt to hold him at bay, “She has written to say that she will be joining us.”

“What?” Chrom was bewildered, “Why? Why now?”

“I… merely conveyed your objections to her decision to stay in Ylisstol, which she appeared to have taken seriously with the distance of time, proximity and the cold tone of the written word.”

“You wrote to her? Why?”

“It was my duty,” she took a step back and crossed her arms, voice becoming softer, “As a tactician and a… friend. If you… If you still view me as such.”

Nothing exchanged between them for a long moment. Chrom seemed to be searching her face in confusion, unable to comprehend the turn of events. Robin could only keep her gaze trained on the grass.

“… Of course, you’re my friend,” Chrom finally said, slightly exasperated. When Robin looked up at him, he had hung his head, scratching the back of his neck, “I mean, I was furious with you for saying something so insensitive, but I knew you were right. And you weren’t apologising, which… well, I’d hoped you would, even though you don’t need to at all, but… I was feeling annoyed because you were telling me all the things I didn’t want to hear, even though you’d been on my side all this time, and I wasn’t…”

Chrom sighed, looking away, reluctance and embarrassment etched on his face.

“… I wasn’t being mature about it,” he muttered, “And Frederick wouldn’t stop giving me these snide hints about what an idiot I’d been acting like, in a manner befitting my station and blah blah blah. I… I never meant to make you feel like our friendship had come to an end.”

He raised his head at her, voice pleading, “I consider you my closest friend, Robin. You were right to be honest with me. I’m sorry if I haven’t been behaving in a way that reflects that. It’s just…”

Robin, who had been watching him quietly even as he began shifting his weight from foot to foot, smiled, her posture relaxing, “You were behaving like a right arse and didn’t have anyone to smack you upside the head about it?”

“I was going to say that I didn’t know how to go about apologising,” he replied sulkily. Robin could only chuckle.

“Well, it’s true that I didn’t say anything that wasn’t right, but I suppose I could have been kinder in the way I spoke. If you’re willing to forgive that…”

Chrom cleared his throat, “It stung, to hear it come from my right hand woman, but it’s something I ought to become used to, as a military man. So… Yes. It’s, well, it’s actually nothing for you to apologise for. Getting my feelings hurt is a small price to pay to maintain the longevity of Ylisse. I should… I should thank you for making me realise my skin isn’t thick enough.”

“Then it’s water under the bridge,” Robin stuck out her hand. He eyed it briefly before taking it and shaking it. With that, the tension left his body and he too became relaxed. He gestured for her to join him in a walk and they slowly made their way towards camp.

“So what did you say to Emm? I can’t imagine anything could shake her decision to leave Ylisstol.”

“Honestly, my letter was an echo of that endless tirade of yours. I was getting sick of hearing it so I thought I should write to her about it.”

Chrom rolled his eyes, “If I had known something like that would work, don’t you think I’d have tried it myself, repeatedly, until she capitulated?”

“I suppose I have the added advantage of being an outsider,” she said with a huff, “Also your writing leaves something to be desired.”

“I’m a general, not a poet.”

“You needn’t be so snippy about it.”

“Well you needn’t be so harsh with your criticism.”

“You’re asking why she was receptive to my letter and not yours, I’m attempting to address your query with my theories.”

“Then do it without being so ham handed.”

“Goodness, but you’re high maintenance,” she sighed dramatically, ignoring the roll of his eyes, “Well, putting aside your family ties and awful penmanship, I think there’s something to be said in rational appeals with a note of emotive pleading.”

“Please speak in a way normal people can understand.”

“I told her staying in the capital is risky and she should seriously address the move through several proposals, especially if her chief concern is for the morale of her subjects. Then I told her it would be a good idea to regroup, because you and your sister miss her, and also because the situation is getting more complicated than what we can achieve on our own.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t bring up security.”

“Oh, I did. But I figure she’s had her ears talked off on that particular issue that she would appreciate being bombarded with different concerns altogether.”

“A tricky move.”

“That’s strategy for you. But honestly, I think my letter coincided with the right timing. I can’t help but feel like she has her back up to a wall. It does not appear that pacifism, despite her efforts, will triumph with this turn of events.”

“Aye,” he replied grimly, “And to hear you say it makes it all too real.”

“I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

“This is a fate woven from many different histories, Robin. We do what we can.”

“It’s a difficult task, being on the cusp of war, struggling to make sure there is no misstep.”

“Yes,” he breathed, “But that’s why we stand together. And no matter what happens, don’t forget it.”


	39. Interlude IX

It occurred to her only during a brief lull. 

During a pause which lasted but a moment, where discussions had died away and no one was really paying attention as they dispersed to attend to their next duties, she saw Chrom absently bringing the lapel of his uniform close to his face, to inhale the faded scent of the edelweiss that had begun to yellow and dry in its place in his buttonhole. She had never confronted him about it, what with the awkward timing and their brief fight. Was it even appropriate to bring it up at this point? Chrom hadn’t made any special attempts to seek her out for anything beyond what they were used to. However it felt… a tad forced, which made her sad. Without the rage from their fight to fuel him, he had become melancholic. Their eyes met rarely and when they did, he was the first to turn his head away, as though ashamed.

 _Ashamed_. It was bitter word on her lips. She could not understand what could possibly drive him to be in possession of such a look but to broach the subject… It was a difficult march to Ferox as the weather changed, and to speak of such things seemed… heavy. 

If space was what he needed, she could grant him that.

And yet, the relief on his face whenever she stepped away was like a vice on her heart.


	40. Chapter 40

“Robin,” Chrom said with a start, knocking over a basket of apples, “What a… What a surprise.”

“Is it?” She found that her tone was less controlled, more dull, “Funny that, given our roles and proximity as fellow militia members within the same group.”

“Oh, uh, yes. Right you are,” Chrom cleared his throat, looking this way and that, “I’ll just… be on my way then.”

“Hold please,” and she saw him halt, attempting to hide the wince she could see all too well from his reflection in a shield hanging from a nearby tent. Chrom slowly turned to face her, eyes meeting but timid and withdrawn, “There are some things we’ve yet to discuss.”

“I’m sure it can wait…”

“Why wait tomorrow when such things can be done today?”

“Oh, uh, d’you hear that? Because I think… yes, I’m sure I heard someone call me. It might be urgent. I should go.”

“Chrom,” Robin sighed, massaging her temples. Her voice and gesture pinned him in place, “Please stop this.”

“Stop…? Whatever could you mean?”

“This façade,” she replied tiredly, “If I have done something to have offended you beyond what I had previously done, pray tell me rather than treat me like…” The words made her tongue feel like cotton, “A scoundrel, unworthy of your time or conversation.”

Chrom seemed taken aback, mouth opening and closing without any words to justify or refute her claims. It made her heart ache.

“I thought you called me friend,” and _oh_ , she would not cry, not now, not like this, “With no secrets between us. That I was someone who had your trust and your confidence. Please, tell me if that’s no longer true.”

“You are,” Chrom surged forward, aborting the gesture to take her by the shoulders, and so his hands hovered between them hesitantly, “You are my dearest friend.”

“Then why do you avoid me so? Have I not apologised enough? Or have I committed some new offence?”

“No, no, no,” he touched her chin, and when she looked up him, he jerked away like he had been burned, “Nothing of the sort. Believe me.”

“What is _this_ then? Why are you acting so strangely?”

He blushed deeply, attempts to answer her starting and stopping several times before he groaned and dropped to sit on a nearby crate, burying his face in his hands, “I can take this no longer.”

“What?” Her heart dropped to her feet yet she could feel it thunder in her chest, dread and more dread turning her blood to ice, “What could possibly be so terrible that you would behave this way?”

“Please, grant me peace,” Chrom forced out, “It is not an easy thing to say, and the consequences… they frighten me. I must… I will answer you, but be gentle and patient.”

“Will you answer me now, or in the future?”

“I cannot wait for the future,” Chrom inhaled deeply, “Again, give me a moment. I must collect myself.”

Anticipation curdled in her stomach. The faintest glimmer of hope was crushed by anxiety and fear. She wrung her hands as she waited, silent as she watched him breathe in and out slowly, composing himself. That hard fought composure crumbled when he raised his head to meet her eyes, and he tried, once more, to calm himself.

Chrom rose to his feet, looked Robin squarely in the eye, and, face absolutely crimson, declared:

“Robin, I’m in love with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry, i kind of honestly forgot about this story. i was slightly derailed when i realised i needed to refer to the actual game chronology and the flood of writing got strangled to a trickle, particularly when i started working again. 
> 
> i've been trying to re-read and remember how i planned the direction of the story (like, I know the events, but the roadmap is blurry) and so this might seem a bit jarring or there's too much back and forth, but i just wanted to get a move on SO THEY CAN KISS FINALLY FUCK'S SAKE
> 
> (also it's been a while so i forgot the style and mood i was writing in)
> 
> SORRY ABOUT THAT GUYS (comment please)


	41. Interlude X

Was this what it was like, to watch a house burn down in front of your eyes?

The world seemed to slow to a halt around them as Robin saw Chrom, really saw him, for the first time in a long time. Her heart throbbed, but it was with as much ache as it was affection. It was so like him to face his challenges head on, no matter where those challenges could come from. The sight of him standing with square shoulders and a determined face, despite the too-red cheeks, was enough, she was sure, to make most women come undone.

But Robin, curse her, was not most women.

As he confessed his passions, she felt as though she was not truly herself, truly not residing within her own body, as though a bird watching the proceedings from the safe perch of a tree branch. She could feel the tumult of her emotions – satisfaction, victory, guilt, fear, sorrow, horror, panic – and the various outcomes and responses she could give to Chrom flashed through her mind in succession, like a flipbook. She could feel it, the thundering of her pulse in her ears, the exhilaration as her breaths quickened into pants, the tremble in her lip. Her heart pulled her in one direction and her head, her blessed and damned head, pulled ever strongly away. From the very outset, she knew there could only be one outcome and she didn’t have the strength of heart not to follow through with the inevitable.

Who was she? Who was _he_?

He was no mere member of nobility, but a crown prince, next in line to the throne. She stood by his side as a friend, but she was not under any illusions that it was the sole purpose that she was here. That veil of friendship was kindness, because that was just the sort of person Chrom was, but it was still a veil that was draped over the truth. And the truth was that she owed him her life – still does, in fact – and she served him at his pleasure. She was duty-bound to serve just as much as Frederick was. And at the heart of it all, the obligation in truth was to the needs of the Halidom, to the word of the Exalt. The bonds between them, her and Chrom, that was merely good fortune. Had he been cruel, as perhaps Gangrel, she would still be honour-bound to serve. His kindness and friendship merely cushioned the duty.

And for the first time, truly for the first time, Robin completely understood what it meant to have let things go on for too long, for too far.

And, knowing her heart almost as much as she knew her own head…

There could only be one outcome.


	42. Chapter 42

“… In fact, I have been from the very first moment I laid eyes on you,” Chrom spoke, unable to quell the tremor from his voice, “I just… didn't realize it until the last little while,” and here he chuckled weakly, “How very like me, isn’t it? _Dense as a tub of bricks_ , as Lissa would say.”

Robin did not reply, only watching him with a conflicted expression on his face. He took in a shaky breath, feeling stronger now that he had made his admission. With the truth out in the open, Chrom felt like everything was on the line. He couldn’t just confess and run away. He loved her. He wanted more, if it could ever be. And he had to let her know that.

“I’ve come to love everything about you,” and by the gods, despite how hot his face grew, he felt himself going numb, “Despite the fighting and my weaknesses, the truth is that every day that we are apart I am miserable. You have become the friend I trust the most, the person I turn to for strength and support. It was so childishly simple before, when all I craved was your companionship, and we lived each day trying to fulfil our duties as best we could. Now, with the shadow of death lingering on every moment in this war, it is difficult to deny that I… wish for more than just your company. 

His voice shook, “You have my heart in your hands, and it is yours to do as you wish. I can… I can only confess that… that it would do me the greatest honour if you could possibly grant me the favour of _your_ heart.”

When Chrom had the strength to look at her again, she had a slight furrow in her brow, the conflict tempered by a subdued expression he found difficult to place. Shyness? Humility? It was a face he had rarely seen on her. Although he could not read her now, he was reminded of his waterfall of words he had hoped would make sense to her, and how it must seem strange to come from nowhere. He had just been on the way to the mess tent. They bumped into each other around a corner and he had spilled apples on the ground. And now, here he was, his heart on his sleeve.

Chrom could only laugh, tiredly. He sighed, shoulders relaxing as he regarded a wary Robin.

“Look,” he said, and wetted his mouth, his tone growing gentler, “Look. I know how sudden this must all be. I must seem like a wyvern in heat, the way I’m acting. I’ve been hot and cold continuously and I must be driving you crazy. The truth is that it’s… it’s difficult to know how to behave when all I want to do is be near you, yet every moment we are together, you unravel me so. I am not suave or fluent, not in this and not when it comes to you, but I hate putting that look on your face. I hate knowing that I’ve made you upset. I’m a terrible liar, as you are fully aware. I could not keep the most important secret of all. I was afraid that,” Chrom faltered, “I was afraid that you would keep your distance if you knew the truth. Or, worse, our friendship would end. But the secret is too difficult to keep, and I…”

Chrom fell silent. Robin waited for him to continue.

“Better now to air it, then to let it fester forever in my heart. And if you reject it, it will be early enough that I can dress the wound and teach myself to accept the rejection, than to obsess forever over something that I would not act upon."

“Chrom…”

“I’m sorry. I know I am an absolute fool, but it’s because I’m completely head over heels for you,” Chrom sighed, “But let me be clear, I place no burden on you for being the object of my feelings. You have no obligation to accept me as anything more than a friend. If you… If you tell me that that is all we could ever be, I am ready to accept that with a gracious and open heart. No matter your reply, you are my _friend_ , and that will not change. I swear it will not.”

“Oh Chrom,” Robin's voice was thick with emotion, “I’m sorry. This is impossible. I know how difficult it must have been to say all of that to me, but I…” She faltered, “I can’t.”

“Ah,” he said, gaze falling to the grass.

“A general and his chief tactician?” She said softly, “It’s not right. Our duties must be to our soldiers, not to each other. And our burden is even greater. I know it hurts to hear, but… no matter how close we are as friends, you can never forget that you are the crown prince. Your life – my life – they do not belong to us. I owe you my loyalty, but you and I owe our allegiance to the crown. You are a price of the realm. Your heart cannot belong to you and cannot be given away so freely. I am now but a servant of Ylisse and I have to uphold the needs of the Halidom. Your feelings flatter me, but…”

“Thank you,” Chrom interjected, his voice soft, “For constantly being a voice of reason. But the truth is that I only wanted to hear your feelings. And now I know, that you do not…” He shook his head, unable to say the words, “I love you, but as ever, you are right. I will… I will respectfully withdraw. Thank you for your honesty. I hope you will not be offended if I keep my distance to… to collect myself.”

“Of course, Chrom,” Robin said, full of empathy, “Take all the time you need.”

“I pray it will not be too much time,” his laugh was hollow, self-depreciating.

“You must know I care for you, Chrom.”

“I do,” he said tightly, “That you are still trying to comfort me, it’s… I can see the depths of your affection. But I hope you understand that your kindness now cuts me. Please, just let it be.”

“I’m… Yes, of course.”

“Right,” he nodded, still unable to look at her face for fear he might be reduced to an undignified mess, “I’m sorry to put you through this.”

“Don’t apologise for your feelings,” Robin said, “I cannot apologise for mine.”

“Indeed,” Chrom’s voice was faint, “As ever, you are right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY I'M NOT SORRY


	43. Chapter 43

The climate changed, driving Chrom’s melancholy ever deeper. He did what was needed as general, but no more, ignoring attempts by Frederick and Gaius to bring him round. The depths of his heartbreak was too deep to articulate, and Chrom knew that he had to bury it somehow. They had too little time for him to even consider waiting for things to return to normal between them. War loomed in the near future. 

Bitterly, Chrom wondered if Robin could ever have just humoured him and his feelings in the scant moments that remained before they were crushed underfoot by the boot of Plegia, but he quickly chided himself for harbouring such thoughts. It would be cruel to them both to force Robin to be anything other than what she was. She was honest and kind. Her bluntness was abrasive, but always well-intentioned. He could only take comfort in that. He had to learn to live with the hurt and move on. That was all that was needed. 

The thought of Emmeryn coming to join them, at least, provided him with some pleasure, but even that seemed to pale under the ache that tugged at him every time he rounded a corner and saw Robin.

Neither went out of their way to seek each other out, but when their eyes met, they exchanged weak smiles and murmured greetings.

It was too difficult.

But Chrom knew he had to live with this. And if he couldn’t, then he didn’t deserve to be Exalt.


	44. Chapter 44

Chrom scanned the letter quickly, barely able to comprehend before he narrowed his eyes and crumpled it in his hands, walking briskly as he stormed through camp with a dark expression on his face. Frederick’s calls for him to calm down and return went ignored.

The object of his pursuit turned out to be in her personal tent. Propriety be damned, he pulled back the flap and entered without a moment’s hesitation. 

“Chrom,” Robin said with a start, dropping the book she had been holding. Before he could say anything, he was drawn to a thin ribbon she held between her fingers by the stem.

Stem. It wasn’t a ribbon. 

As he realised what it was, Robin also quickly understood that he knew and she flushed, stammering as she tried to conjure a believable excuse.

“I’d wondered what had happened to it,” Chrom cut through the chatter, oddly calm, “I’d assumed you’d thrown it away once it had withered.”

“I… I couldn’t bring myself to do something like that,” Robin finally said, cradling the flower in her hands protectively, “No matter what your meaning had been, you had given it to me as a gift. A… a gift of remembrance. I felt I had to preserve it.”

“You pressed it, I see. That’s rather ingenious.”

“Tempting as it would be to wear the flower as you have with my own, I’m afraid it would not last. And a lily is far too large to fit into one’s buttonhole.”

“True enough,” Chrom agreed, faintly touching the fresh white edelweiss in the buttonhole of his lapel. He had replaced it the day Robin rejected him, as it had withered on that very day. An ironic twist of symbolism, he felt. Yet, he could not bring himself to remove it completely and decided to wear another, even if it had not come from Robin. He was in no position to rebel, but he could, he feel, at least make a small if inconsequential point about his feelings.

And, despite her reply, there was this. There was something more. She must have known the chatter about camp about their flowers being an exchange of tokens. Despite all that, she had kept his gift. Preserved it, even, between the pages of a book. How very like her.

Robin, seeing him touch his edelweiss, turned away, eyes trained on her lap, the blush still on her face as she stared at the dried bird lily in her hand.

“You came to see me for something?”

“Yes,” Chrom said placidly, all the anger and fight having left him. There was no time for introspection. His personal affairs could only be dealt with later. He entered the tent fully and stopped by Robin’s side, offering her the crumpled letter, “Misfortune befalls in threes, as they say.”

_Robin rejecting him. Sumia punching him in the face. And now…_

Robin’s eyes widened as she clutched the letter, “Emmeryn has been captured by the Plegians.”


	45. don't speak her name

The Exalt is dead.

Long live the Exalt.


	46. Chapter 46

The aftermath of the battle had been too great to truly understand. With Gangrel’s death, the war had come to an end, but the heavy toll that befell both Ylissians and Plegians had only just begun to make itself known. A swift return to the capital would have been ideal, but too many had been wounded, and even more were dead. With their arms laid down, there were no more sides to take. There were only those who were dead, and those who lived. And it was the obligation of the living to care for those who clung on to the last dregs of life. Whether it was or was not against her will, Robin was thrust into the rush to tend to the injured in makeshift field hospitals, using what little knowledge she had of healing and medicine to aid the other clerics. 

As she wiped away the last drops of sweat from her brow and the flaking remnants of dried blood from her hands, she looked up to see a yellowing sky that beckoned the fall of the e’entide. The dust of the day had settled. Most of the patients had fallen asleep from the heat of the desert sun or from the pain and exhaustion of hours of surgical healing. Her duties effectively complete, Robin walked away from the field hospital towards the Shepherd camp, or what little remained of it.

They had suffered casualties, of course. But the burden of the war and the shock of the Exalt’s death made it difficult to fall to grief. At least, that was what Robin liked to think. She heard the familiar sounds of a crying princess, and quickly peering through the stables revealed Lissa, sobbing desperately into Maribelle’s chest. Their eyes met briefly and Robin could only withdraw when Maribelle gave her a gentle shake of the head. 

Of course, she had suffered no personal losses. It would be foolish of her to think that the others were coping as well. She had noted the absence of Sumia and Cordelia’s pegasi. She could only imagine what rites they had to attend to.

With her walkabout of the camp complete, she accounted for every Shepherd but three. 

An educated guess led her feet to the site of the final battle.

“Robin,” Gaius murmured from his seat on a nearby perch. Frederick glanced back at her from where he stood at attention, nodding his acknowledgement. 

In the distance, Chrom was sitting on a boulder near a bloodstain.

"How is he?" She asked, eyes trained on the hunched back of the newly ascended Exalt.

Frederick sighed softly, "He's been there for some time. I'm worried."

"We're hardly the types he'd want to cry to," Gaius quipped, though his expression was serious, "If he allowed himself to."

"Indeed," Frederick murmured, "But it is not my place to go where I am not asked."

"Well aren't you lucky," Robin said, "Because I find myself going wherever I'm not wanted."

"Good luck, Bubbles," Gaius said. She nodded once and walked towards the Exalt.


	47. Chapter 47

She wondered if he had cried. Robin remembered the depths of his rage and how his sorrow had consumed him as he charged into battle, cutting down every enemy in his path in his pursuit of Gangrel. He had been blind to all else but vengeance, and despite how the others struggled to keep up and cover his flank, Robin found herself unable to deny him this. Gangrel had been the cause of all the ills that had plagued Ylisse from the day she had been found by the Shepherds. And despite the rational argument that he had more value as a live prisoner rather than as another corpse, Robin understood just how high the price of his life was. To save it would be to receive the hatred and rage of her friends and allies. Robin was not heartless nor completely unaffected by her desire to be embraced by her companions. They needed this. Chrom needed this. 

Even though it would be a hollow victory. Robin fully understood the emptiness of taking Gangrel’s life. The satisfaction would wear thin quickly, because a thousand Plegian corpses could never return to Ylisse the life of a single woman.

The stillness of the valley was haunting. The scent of death lingered, vultures circling overhead as unclaimed bodies began to rot under the desert sun. Now that it was devoid of warring armies, Robin could feel the immensity of the desert, how she was intruding into a sacred place. She kept her footfalls light. Despite her nerves, she did not falter in her approach to Chrom.

She waited wordlessly by his side, a quiet announcement of her presence. 

“He’s sent you to check on me, has he?”

Robin smiled briefly, “Hardly. I wanted to see how you were.”

“I’m sitting on a rock in the middle of a Plegian desert. There have been better days.”

He was calm. Weary and tired, but calm. Robin was surprised to find him pensive rather than emotional, though she couldn’t quite know how to feel about it. Frederick and Gaius clearly wanted her to comfort Chrom in the wake of his sister’s death, but… he hardly seemed to need it at all.

“How is Lissa?” He finally asked through the silence.

“Inconsolable. Maribelle has been by her side.”

“I see. Good,” he exhaled softly, “She is a strong girl. The tears will soon subside.”

“And yours?” Robin ventured, “Have they subsided?”

Chrom graced her with a sidelong glance and a wry smile, looking at her for the first time, “Is that why you’re here? To dry my tears?”

“If needs must,” Robin offered with a smile. Chrom shook his head.

“Grief is a privilege denied to the Exalt. There have been enough tears shed today.”

“What about a brother?” Robin asked gently, “Does grief elude a brother?”

“The sister who is dead does not want my grief. The sister who is alive cannot see my grief. And now, I… Honestly, Robin, what have you come here for? I will not be crying today. I have a great many things on my mind and I just… I’m here to come to terms with everything that’s happened.”

“You needn’t do it alone, Chrom,” she said, “You may be the new Exalt, but it’s not a burden you must shoulder by yourself. We’re here for you,” and she hesitated briefly, “I’m here for you.”

“The new Exalt,” he breathed, shaking his head. He pressed his palms together, leaning his chin against his fingertips, “Lissa and I are spares to the throne. I should never have been heir. Emmeryn should have been happily married with children that would one day inherit her rule. What…” Chrom closed his eyes and breathed deeply, his voice shaking, but only briefly, “What spare wishes to inherit the throne in this way?”

Robin placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. She said nothing.

A moment passed. Chrom sighed and straightened his back. He patted the back of Robin’s hand and stood.

“Never mind me,” he placed a hand on the hilt of Falchion, watching her with a quiet expression. It pained her to see how much he had aged. “How are you?”

“Me?” She echoed, “I’m coping about as well as anyone else, I suppose. But I’m not important, Chrom. I’m more concerned about you.”

“You and everyone else,” he said dismissively, “Who will be concerned for you if not me?”

Robin was taken aback at the turn the conversation had taken. She was sure Chrom would be, if not consumed with grief, at least stricken and in need of companionship. But his one moment of melancholy had been brief, just a flicker of what could have been, and he had extinguished it decisively. He was bone-tired and world-weary, but she could see that the sorrow that Lissa was drowning in did not take root with him. Perhaps he had focused all of his emotions into the killing blow. 

Robin felt she did not know his mind as well as she used to. She could only guess.

“I’m… flattered for your concern. But if I may be so bold, I have not lost anyone close to my heart. All things considered, I’m fine.”

“I suppose. But… I dragged you into this war, and it was not your war to fight. Given the… circumstances, I fear you may harbour regrets.”

Robin’s eyes widened. Surely he didn’t _think_ she’d…?

“Chrom,” she pleaded, “My only regret what that I could not save Emmeryn. Never once have I wished that I had not met you, or the Shepherds, or joined in your cause. Without you, I would have been no one.”

“You could have been safe,” he argued, “You could have been far away from all the fighting. I could have left you in Ylisstol, as a civilian, with no ties to the militia.”

“And Ylisstol would still have been sacked, and I could easily have been dead,” she interjected, “Rather than here, by your side, alive, fighting for you and what you believe in.”

Chrom dropped his gaze to the ground briefly before he looked at her again, “I’ve put your life at risk, and I had no right to it. I’ve… I’ve never had a right to it.”

Robin’s mouth went dry.

“And this battle, I would have gladly thrown my life away. I would have thrown away the lives of each Shepherd here today. I was so consumed with hatred and…” He shook his head, tightening his hand into a fist, “My life would have been a worthy price.”

“No!” Robin blurted out, taking Chrom by the shoulders, “No. No matter what you think, your death would have destroyed us all. Emmeryn’s sacrifice would have been for naught. We would have lost our leader. I would… I would have lost my will to fight. I could only carry on because of you. If you fight with courage, then I must fight with logic. No matter your rage or grief, I could fight on because I knew I had to protect you.”

He looked her in the eye, “At the cost of your own life?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Then I don’t want it,” he pushed her hands away and turned around, “You forget that I love you. What man wants the one he loves to die for him? I have already had to bear witness to it today, with Emmeryn’s death. If you choose to die for me then I must…” He inhaled slowly, “I _will_ send you away.”

“Don’t,” Robin pleaded, “Chrom, leaving you would devastate me.”

“Devastation, it seems, is something we must all grow to live with,” he replied with finality. He turned to face her again, that maddeningly calm expression on his face, “Enough of this. Let us return. I’ve kept away from my duties for long enough. I’m sure Frederick’s sick with worry.”

“No, don’t,” Robin grabbed the front of his tunic, gazing at him imploringly, “Please.”

He looked at her pensively, scanning her face before he finally raised his hands and placed them over hers, where they were pressed over his heart. 

“I know it is not my place to say this,” he began softly, “Not after you made it abundantly clear that nothing could ever happen. But… it would be a lie to say that your devotion doesn’t move me. As I was coming to terms with all that has happened, the truth is that you weighed heavily on my mind. I know your answer but permit to confess, one more time.”

“Chrom…”

“You are a special woman, Robin. You have the best mind of anyone I have ever known. You are the best fighter and the best friend I could have ever asked for. You’re beautiful and maddening and absolutely brilliant. You have your pick of the lot but I… I find it difficult to imagine falling for another woman. And I should not dare hope, not now, but I… I wonder if you have ever entertained even the barest notion that I could be more than just your leader. But—no, I don’t… I don’t think I want to know. I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”

“Chrom,” Robin whispered, refusing to move away, “Ask me.”

He hesitated, glancing away briefly, “Why? Will… Will your answer change?”

“You can only know if you ask me.”

“If you feel pity,” he said, “If you are moved by the moment, or self-preservation for the thought of being sent away, then I don’t dare ask anything of you.”

“Ask me,” she insisted, “Please ask me. I want you to ask me.”

Chrom bit down on his lower lip, deliberating his next move, but under her beseeching gaze, he could only obey her whims with the softest sigh of resignation, steeling himself for disappointment.

“I am yours,” he said, voice thick, “Will you be mine?”

“Yes,” she breathed, unable to suppress the smile on her face, “A thousand times, yes.”

“I… I don’t understand,” Chrom looked upset, “What changed?”

“The circumstances,” she said, no longer able to reign in her thoughts and emotions, “Call me a fool, but yours was a future that I had no place meddling in. The Exalt had intimated that she was considering a political marriage between you and a foreign princess to strengthen diplomatic ties. And, oh Chrom, _I_ have the pick of the lot? You’re a _prince_ , I’m just some nameless woman with a head injury. I owe you the world. I only wanted what was best for you, without causing you heartache or scandal. I’ve loved you for so long. Accepting your confession would have undone all my efforts to promote your best interests.”

“You loved me?” Wonder lit his eyes, and he seemed young again, like the Chrom she had always known, “All this time?”

“Yes. I’ll say it as many times as you wish.”

“But why tell me this now? What about the circumstances…” He trailed off and realisation slowly began to dawn, “My sister.”

Robin nodded, “You and I owe our allegiance to the Exalt. I would not dare say anything to you without her explicit approval. Your life and mine, they do not belong to us.”

“You foolish woman,” Chrom’s eyes were misting over, “Why couldn’t you have spoken honestly to me?”

“Call me a fool as many times as I deserve. I wasn’t about to convince anyone that you couple with a woman of no political influence.”

“Emmeryn would have understood that we loved each other.”

“I know,” Robin shook her head, “And she would have made her decision with due consideration to my feelings, which could have changed any diplomatic plans to… Oh Chrom, you know how complicated politics is. You must know what I was thinking.”

“You care too much about others and not enough about yourself,” he said, “The grief you have put me through.”

“I know, Chrom. I’m sorry. The truth is that I’m still terrified that I’m making the wrong decision, but I’ve hated keeping this from you. And I… I still think that any decisions you make about the future should be for the sake of Ylisse. No matter what decision you make, I will stand by your side, supporting you. That’s… That’s all I will ever ask of you.”

“Not my heart?” Chrom asked, squeezing her hand in his.

“I don’t dare. I couldn’t.”

“This is the one liberty you won’t take?”

“You are the one person I refuse to betray.”

“But if I ask something of you, you would give it to me?”

“If it is within my power, it is yours.”

“Will you marry me?”

Robin faltered, gazing at him with searching eyes, unable to speak.

“You said that you owed your allegiance to the Exalt, that your decisions are made for the sake of the Halidom. You would do me and Ylisse the greatest honour of being my wife and queen, if you… if you are willing.”

“Oh Chrom.”

"I know the circumstances under which we met were unusual, but lives have been made from far less. And if I were to wait for the perfect moment or the perfect arrangements, would we have ever met? Would it ever have come to this? My sister has always followed her heart, and in this, allow me to follow mine. Robin, will you marry me?"

Robin’s eyes were wet with tears, “Yes.”

“Truly?” He said, absolutely winded.

“Truly. I love you. I want nothing more than to marry you.”

The smile on his face seemed to brighten everything around them, drowning out the battlefield and heat of the desert. He leaned in, his expression cooling into something coy.

“Will you not ask of me one other thing?”

“What is it?”

“Won’t you ask me to kiss you?”

Robin laughed, throwing her arms around his neck and surging forward to meet his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU'RE WELCOME EVERYBODY
> 
> YOU'RE FUCKING WELCOME


	48. Chapter 48

"I think," Frederick began, slowly switching his gaze between the two, "That a betrothal announcement should wait."

"Congratulations, by the way," Gaius quipped from where he sat behind Frederick.

"I don't understand," Chrom said wearily, "I assumed you'd be the most anxious to hear news of this nature."

"No, he's right."

"Robin, please."

"It pains me to admit it but... the successor to the throne whose predecessor died on foreign soil, to assume the throne and quickly marry a hitherto unknown woman of nameless origins... It rings suspiciously, does it not?"

"You know that I don't care for such baseless rumours."

"Yes, but that is why Frederick and I are your advisors, because it's our job to care."

"Quite right. It would do harm to your reputation, my liege, and I'm afraid that that would be a difficult thing to recoup once lost."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm quite serious," Frederick said, the tight frown unwavering on his face, "The last thing the Halidom needs is a civil war, on account of distrust towards the legitimacy of your succession."

"And if we do not wait for the appropriate moment, my own lack of popularity could prove to be fatal," Robin said as placatingly as she could, "Surely you understand."

"Whatever happened to planning a wedding in order to offset a tragedy?"

"Better to quash all noises of dissent from the outset, than to overpower them with noise of merrymaking, wouldn't you agree?"

"You can't possibly be happy with this, Robin."

She took his hand in hers and patted it gently, trying to comfort him, "It is only a matter of waiting, Chrom. The only thing I have to fear is your affections wandering."

"Likewise," he said with a scowl, gripping her hand gently in his, "I understand waiting to marry, but to even announce our engagement? I want..." He inhaled slowly, reddening, "I want to make it clear you're spoken for."

Robin blushed, suddenly unable to meet Chrom's eye, "I couldn't possibly wear _your_ ring, Chrom. That's as good as an announcement."

"Then I should--"

"Absolutely not," Frederick interjected firmly, "That is an even louder announcement. You are under constant scrutiny, Your Grace."

Chrom looked positively harassed and was about to open his mouth to argue further when Gaius finally spoke up.

"Just get Robin a regular boring ring then. Problem solved."

The other three shut their mouths and snapped their heads towards Gaius, who was sucking on a lollipop disinterestedly. 

"I find that somewhat unsatisfactory, but... as a temporary measure, it would suffice," Chrom turned to Robin, "You would wear a ring for me?"

"I..." Robin was suddenly at a loss. A glance at the determined expression on Chrom's face swayed her and she lowered her head, "... if that's what it takes."

"All right," Chrom sighed with relief, a sudden weight off his shoulders, "I'm sorry for being so stubborn in this. Now that I know you feel the same, I couldn't bear the thought of some other man catching your eye."

"All right, pack it up," Gaius slid off the perch he had been sitting on and unceremoniously dragged a resisting Frederick by his suspenders, "Look, they're barely going to get any private time after this, so have a heart, Stiff."

Their voices finally died out. A surreptitious glance revealed that it was just the two of them in that moment, at the edge of the Plegian dessert, and Chrom sighed softly as he gathered Robin in his arms. She stepped forward, her hands twining around his body as she buried her face in his chest.

"I'm being overbearing, aren't I?"

"Not in the least," Robin chuckled softly, "It must seem irrational to suppress such good news."

"I want to shout my love for you to the mountaintops," he sighed, "How on earth does Frederick expect me to keep our engagement under wraps?"

"Oh Chrom."

"I must be a fool. Here you are, practically level-headed and unmoved."

"I'm not unmoved," Robin leaned back from the embrace, touching Chrom's cheek gently with a hand. He covered it with his own, "I've just had a much longer time to become used to holding in what I feel for you."

"It would do me a world of good for you to express your feelings to me now," he replied somewhat miserably. She chuckled again.

"If I could," Robin said shyly, "I'd make it known that you too were spoken for."

"Say it and it is done."

"Don't be so hasty, my love," she said exasperatedly, "You know you can't wear a ring."

He watched her quietly, the cogs turning in his head before finally he slowly said, "I'll wear an edelweiss in my buttonhole every day, then."

Robin turned red, "Oh... Yes, I suppose... That could work."

The grin Chrom gave her honestly lit up their surroundings and she couldn't help but smile back.

"Grant me patience," Chrom said softly, "There is work that needs to be done for Ylisse but I swear, when it is through..."

"I'll wait forever for you."

Chrom turned his head and kissed her palm gently, eyes twinkling, "I pray I won't take that long... My love."

Her blush deepened but she could only smile, "My love."


	49. Chapter 49

To say that they had barely any private time together would be an understatement. The real work began at a war's end and Chrom was positively drowning under negotiations for reparations, new treaties delineating national boundaries, rebuilding cities and villages that had been caught in the crossfire of the war, aid in terms of food and medicine for refugees, the complete reconstruction of Ylisstol following its sacking, and the matter of his coronation, which his council had mercifully agreed to postpone in favour of spending the palace coffers on more immediate concerns. A bright spot in the entire mess was that the council had accepted Robin into their fold following his rather forceful insistence that the qualifications of his wartime advisors were beyond question, what with helping him secure Ylisse's victory over the Mad King. Despite the rather tetchy attitudes in the beginning and whispers of _favouritism_ and so on, work overwhelmed them all and soon Robin and her work ethic blended in seamlessly. It made him proud to see her stand tall among the nobles of Ylisse and he was glad she had agreed to continue on in her capacity as advisor because he truly believed that without her grounding, he'd have decapitated half of the council already. 

But that was it. He was allowed glimpses of Robin when they worked and on some brief occasions where they happened to share a meal together. Outside of that, their duties took them in completely opposite directions. It was infuriating. When the motion to provide Robin with housing (given that she had essentially occupied the role of a minister, and was therefore due her allotment of benefits and an allowance) came up, he struck it down with immediacy, citing unnecessary expenses and sharply informing his council that she would remain in the royal wing where her movements would remain under observation of the royal guard, given her uncertain origins and her proximity to national and military secrets. It was such a passionately argued debate with bulletproof logic that the council could only (somewhat hesitantly) rule in favour of the Exalt-to-be, to his intense relief and satisfaction. Frederick, a newly ordained member of the council, looked like he had suffered a heart attack. Robin could only keep silent and will herself not to turn too red. If others interpreted her reaction as that of humility at being put in her place as a result of being foreign-born, well, that was something she would not set out to disprove. 

She caught up with Chrom as he moved for his next round of meetings in the formal audience hall, gently taking his arm.

"Was that altogether necessary?" She asked, voice quiet in the echoing chambers.

"Yes," Chrom's reply was determined and his eyes were fierce. He leaned in with the intent to kiss her, but halted at the last moment, remembering where they were. Instead, he placed his hand over hers, squeezing gently, "Don't reduce what little time we have together already. I don't have the energy to sneak out of the palace every night."

"All right," she replied softly, unable to stop the smile at the insinuation he would sneak out every day to see her, "I wouldn't want to be the cause of a logistical nightmare."

"Too right," Frederick replied breathlessly, apparently having run in order to catch up with his charge, "I'd be grateful if you would inform me about your speeches ahead of time, my liege, so that I won't _die of shock_ , and so that I can help you plan your arguments that your tongue won't run away with you."

"Thank you for interrupting, Frederick."

"You're welcome, sire. We ought to move on before your impassioned speech and inopportune mid-corridor rendezvous with the good lady rouses any more suspicions."

"Will I see you tonight?" Robin asked helplessly, "In Lissa's room?"

"I promise - stop pushing me Frederick - I will be late, but I promise."


	50. Interlude XI

Robin heaved a bone deep sigh, squeezing a cushion tightly against her chest as she gazed at the grandfather clock against the wall. The hour was late, almost midnight, and there was neither hide nor hair of the man she had spent the past several hours waiting for. The book she had brought to pass the time lay forgotten on the coffee table, long abandoned after attempts to read failed for the umpteenth time. Her gracious host was busy humming as she braided her hair with a ribbon at her vanity. After a moment she let out a long yawn.

"He's pretty late. I'm thinking it's bed time soon," Lissa said, "Are you staying?"

"Yes," Robin sighed, "Sorry to keep you up but I want to wait a little more."

"Poor you," Lissa said gently, tossing her completed plait over her shoulder as she made her way to Robin and took a seat in the chair closest to her, hand patting her knee, "I can't imagine how hard that fusspot must be working him when he's usually the one nagging Chrom to get the proper amount sleep. _Bedrest for a quarter day will make the prince Exalted, pray_ and all that junk."

Robin smiled, "He says that to Chrom?"

"Sings it to him almost every night if you can believe it."

"I can," Robin chuckled, "Frederick does dote on him, doesn't he?"

"Honestly, they should just marry each other," Lissa rolled her eyes again, "A match made in heaven."

"That sounds like Chrom's worst nightmare."

"All the better." They both laughed, "Though I think Chrom's worst nightmare is Frederick marrying _you_."

"Oh, good lord."

"His affections notwithstanding, I can imagine he'd be twice as liable to run away from his study with both you and Frederick nagging."

"I couldn't possibly be _that_ bad."

"No," Lissa agreed easily, "Save when you and Frederick agree on something, especially if it's something Chrom is virulently opposed to. There's nothing more he hates than you not being on his side when he and Frederick are at each other's throats."

Robin bit the inside of her cheek, holding back the full-fledged grin that threatened to split her face in two. It was honestly a relief to be able to confide in Lissa, who had her absolute confidence and had, true to her word, not breathed a word to anyone, not even Maribelle. Frederick and Gaius knew on account of being at the scene, but they were certainly not helpful nor did they understand a woman's heart. When her heart ached at being apart, Frederick could only give her a wary look that was somewhat pitying, though it was often drowned out by his unyielding discipline. Gaius was completely useless. _'Just have a rendezvous, what's the problem?'_ and it must be so simple not to have the shackles of office or propriety to hold him down. Romancing Gaius would have been a simple and straightforward affair. 

Still. His suggestions did have some... merit. 

"You're sighing again, Robin," Lissa said in amusement.

"Sorry," she replied sheepishly, "I didn't even realise."

"You like my brother that much, huh?"

Robin smiled at her, "Yes."

"It must be awful, all this shadowing about. If you're going to meet in secret, wouldn't it be better to do it in your room? Or his room? I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Oh Lissa," Robin laughed, "Have you forgotten the fact that you have to report our every move to Frederick?"

"Oh. Right."

"He's a good man," Robin said, "He's unbending, but that's something to respect. And he's someone I very much want as an ally. True, he's worse than a mother-in-law, but at the very least, he is supportive. And... he's accepted me as a worthy partner to your brother. I couldn't ask for more than this."

"Stop being so sensible," Lissa complained, "The two of you deserve to spend hours making eyes at each other, without anyone breathing down your neck. I'm more than happy to lie on your behalf, you know."

Robin blinked at Lissa, but before she could say anything, the door slammed open.


	51. Chapter 51

"Sorry," Chrom said breathlessly as he made sure to close the door behind him with more care, "Hierarch Thierry caught me before the evening bell rang."

"That's quite all right," Robin smiled, setting aside the cushion she had been holding and scooting to allow Chrom to sit. He leaned tiredly into the sofa, arm across the back and his other hand pinching the front of his tunic to fan himself. His hair was still damp and the droplets of water clinging to his skin were remnants from the very quick bath he took, rather than sweat from running. "Catch your breath, my dear."

Chrom smiled at her, but before he could respond, Lissa coughed, "I can barely keep my eyes open, so I'm going to bed."

"What?" He blurted, "But I just got here!"

"That's not my fault, or my problem."

"Lissa, _please_ , you know we can't meet without you chaperoning."

Lissa rolled her eyes but stood to her full height, regal as a queen, "I'm not kicking you out of my room, but for as long as you keep your hands over your clothes, I'll tell Frederick whatever you want me to in the morning."

It took an entire moment for her words to properly digest, but when they did, Chrom beheld his sister as though she had sprouted wings and a halo.

"Sister mine," he finally managed, "I'm seeing you entirely in a different light."

"I expect your full commitment to do the same when _my_ lover begins courting me."

He placed a hand over his heart, raising the palm of the other upwards in an oath, "I solemnly swear that you have my word as the Exalt."

Lissa giggled, "All right then. I'm going to bed. Take as long as you need, but do leave before the hour gets too late. Both of you need your rest."

She left them in the lounge of her chambers, passing through screens and curtains that partitioned her sleeping quarters from where she received her guests. The sound of her climbing into bed was followed by the candle light from her bedside going out and soon all was quiet again.

Chrom relaxed once again into the sofa, pulling Robin closer towards him, and she pliantly followed, leaning into him for a kiss.

"I knew I said I would wait forever, but scant hours were pure agony," Robin confessed, leaning against his chest with a sigh. It made his heart swell to hear her say such things, when Robin never seemed outwardly put out whenever they discussed the distance that had to be wedged between them. He raised her head by the chin so she was looking up at him and kissed her again. When they broke apart, she murmured, "Couldn't you refrain from working at night, for my sake?"

"I'm not the one wasting our time together talking," he said with a grin, and kissed her again. He felt her chuckle softly and she pressed both her hands against his shoulders pushed him down as she sat up, looming over him. It made him feel somewhat exhilarated, having her look down on him like that, and he was sure things would get rather scandalous if he followed that train of thought to its conclusion.

"It's occurred to me that, perhaps, we are being too well-behaved."

"Oh?" Chrom smirked, "My lady councilor has a proposal to put forth that might violate the terms set out by our gracious host?"

"Silly," she rolled her eyes, "I don't mean tonight per se. I meant in general."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe _you_ were the one who was enthusiastic about keeping things under wraps until the right time came."

"I'm only human, and humans make mistakes," Robin glossed over smoothly, "I still believe discretion is wise, but... we could meet and still be discreet, wouldn't you agree?"

"My lady is reckless," Chrom's reply was low and his grin was lazy, hands beginning to wander under her dressing gown, "I rather like this new development."

"Chrom, you really should behave yourself," Robin said, though breathlessly. He could only chuckle.

"I'll be convinced when you say it like you mean it. But the lack of irony, considering what you're suggesting, is what gets me the most."

"Please Chrom, this is so frustrating. We only ever get to meet like this once a week. And Lissa explicitly said to keep your hands above my clothes."

"They are above your clothes," he protested innocently, "It's not my fault your gown came loose."

"Your handiwork, no doubt," but Robin kissed him, completely enamoured by this point, her palms pressing flat and sliding down from his shoulders to his chest. He slowly deepened the kiss, satisfied that she was done talking and more concerned with the fact that they weren't liplocked at all now that they were completely alone. Usually Lissa would sit in the wingback chair and chat idly with them while ignoring the fact that Robin was encircled in Chrom's arms and they would only manage to sneak a kiss or two when he finally said goodbye. 

Chrom moved one of his hands to the back of Robin's head, cupping it gently as pressed upwards and changed the angle of the kiss. He somehow managed to sit upright once again, with Robin straddling his lap securely. His other hand rather slyly rested on her thigh, sliding up and down slowly, thumb pressing against her inner thigh in intervals.

Robin broke the kiss, panting slightly, "We'll never be able to meet here again if you keep doing that."

"I'm fully aware that I'm a greedy man," Chrom murmured in reply, "And I know that I lack patience. But could you blame me?"

"No," Robin sighed, her hands on either side of his head and cradling his face gently before she leaned forward to kiss him again, "I love you."


	52. Chapter 52

"The hours are altogether too short," Robin said wistfully at the door of Lissa's chambers, a hand clinging to the front of Chrom's tunic, "I wish you didn't have to go."

"You're not making it any easier for me, you know," Chrom murmured against her ear, hand on her waist, "Do you honestly believe I want to return to my room alone?"

"No," she touched his cheek and their eyes met, "But I'm in your arms and yet my heart still aches."

"Perhaps," Chrom ventured tentatively, reaching into the pocket of his dressing gown, "Perhaps I might offer a balm?"

It was a small velvet box. And inside was a simple golden band, engraved with designs of the edelweiss.

"Chrom," she breathed. He took it from the box and slipped it over her finger, kissing her hand once he had done the task.

"A little loose," he chuckled softly, "My apologies, but I was in such a rush to pick something out."

"Thank you," she said, pulling him down for a tender, lingering kiss.

"You will..." Chrom was hesitant, "You will wear it, won't you?"

"Oh Chrom," Robin laughed, "I'll flash it before the eyes of all who dare cast me a second glance."

"It's a temporary thing," he insisted, "Until I can formalise our engagement. I hope to exchange this band for my own ring, with the seal of the royal house. It was bestowed to me upon birth and I am meant to give it to my bride as a symbol of our union."

"Of course, Chrom," Robin said softly, "I'm happy no matter what ring you put on me, but I will anxiously await the day you exchange this band for the one you want."

"Thank you, my love," he whispered, kissing her hand and then her lips, "Good night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're gross, i'm gross, you're all gross as heck


	53. Interlude XII

Robin could have dealt with the devil himself and yet they still would not have been able to meet. For all the meetings and events that filled their days, there was only one that bore a burden that was as heavy as the weight of its shadow upon not just Robin and Chrom, but the entire Halidom itself. 

The shadows cast by the candles in the royal wing of the Ylissian palace were long and flickering. Red wreaths of bird lilies and edelweiss decorated the halidom, the bouquet in her own chambers extravagant but tasteful. Robin began to understand exactly why the bird lily had been chosen as the mourning flower of the Ylissians; beside the regal edelweiss, the bird lily was vibrant and bursting with joy and ecstatic colour. It was a reminder of the beauty of the deceased, both in terms of their character as well as their sacrifice. The edelweiss symbolised Emmeryn’s nobility and grace, and the bird lily represented her vibrancy. You could only look at it and smile. It was bittersweet, but altogether wise.

Robin pressed her hand against the glass of the window that overlooked the palace courtyard. The funeral procession had ended hours earlier and the remnants of the event were being cleaned up. It was interesting to see the Ylisstollians standing along the castle path in different shades of red. Some diplomats and visiting royals dressed in their own mourning garb, contributing to a smattering of yellow and black among the throng. Many, though not all, in attendance wore a wreath of bird lily and edelweiss upon their heads. The Ylissian royal family, however, wore long fine red veils that draped across their shoulders and upper chest, in a material that was just opaque enough that you could not make out their facial expressions. They kneeled before the coffin as the burial rites were read aloud and Emmeryn’s body was lowered into the earth. Chrom held Falchion blade-down, as a mark of respect for the fallen Exalt.

It was strange to think that, only days earlier, she had been wrapped in his arms, both of them giddy with excitement as they whispered their devotion to each other and shared in a kiss that was altogether too brief. 

Robin touched her lips. 

It was too long since she and Chrom had been alone. After that shared moment in the desert, Robin had been somewhat in a panic when she came to her senses and realised what she had committed to. But when her head began telling her about everything that could go wrong, she caught Chrom’s eye from across the room and he gave her an affectionate smile which promptly made those doubts melt away. What was wrong with taking the plunge, for once, instead of worrying incessantly?

In the present, Robin found her feet taking her to Chrom’s study, where the man in question sat, leaning back heavily into his chair, legs splayed out before him and both hands gripping the arms of his seat before the fireplace. Lissa sat at the end of a settee, her veil scrunched up on an end table, her eyes closed and legs tucked under her. In the corner, Frederick was pouring tea. He looked up at Robin and nodded in acknowledgement before returning to his task.

“It was a beautiful ceremony,” she said softly. Chrom raised his head and flashed her a slightly wobbly smile.

“It was,” he said, winded, as though his breath had been sucked out of him. He closed his eyes wearily, “It’s good to be able to return her to the earth after laying in state for the past forty days. Just…”

Chrom sighed heavily. Robin took a seat beside him and gently took his hand in hers. He squeezed back gratefully.

“It’s so… final,” his voice was pained, “It hurt to see her whenever I passed the Great Hall, but now, the thought that I’d never see her again…” 

“I understand,” Robin responded quietly, forgetting altogether the ache of weeks of separation from Chrom as she continued to stroke the back of his hand with her thumb, “Grieve as you must, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just returned on a whim. There's a particular event I want for them to experience so I may continue writing a bit, as per my whims, until I hit that event. And then we'll see.
> 
> Also, turns out I wrote this chapter right after the confession/proposal scene but couldn't find this file and so forgot about it. Oh well!


	54. Chapter 54

If either Chrom or Robin hoped for some intimacy after the funeral, they simply had to make do with the single shared moment in his study. 

It was a nice thought, to have been able to see each other more and to sneak behind Frederick's back. Truth was, Chrom didn't really entertain it as something that could possibly happen, not with the sudden onslaught of work that had fallen into their laps. The reconstruction of Ylisstol had begun in full and all sorts of arrangements were necessary. Robin had, mercifully, taken command of the Shepherds with Frederick assuming the mantle of general of the armies as Chrom's diplomatic duties demanded him elsewhere.

It was trying, at times, to be made to participate in things that seemed inconsequential, like the annual Feroxi hunt. However it played a far more important role in gathering leaders for informal talks, where the true work of post-war peace-building was done. And, honestly, it was a relief to have the time and space to breathe, away from Ylisse.

Still. It would have been nice to spend these moments with Robin.

“Ahoy there, Chrom. How’s the arm, then?”

“Khan Basilio,” Chrom nodded hello, “Better since the last battle. A bit out of practice with my bow, however.”

“Pah, it will return. And if it doesn’t, then it will be a sight to see you sticking that holy sword of yours into the quarry and turning it over a spit!”

Chrom managed a good-natured roll of his eyes as Basilio’s deep belly laughter subsided, “How goes the hunt?”

“Good, good! Better still that you’ve come. But dash the hunt, boy. Your mind wanders. Something plaguing you?”

Chrom’s smile flickered, “Nothing of import.”

“It must be difficult to drag yourself across the kingdom after putting your sister into the ground, but better to rip off the bandage than to pick at the wound. If not now, then when?”

Chrom could physically _feel_ Frederick stiffening with indignance from across the clearing, but he felt oddly grateful for the uncouth words, meant to comfort no matter how clumsy they were. From a man like Basilio, it was no small thing. Chrom respected him and he could see clearly, for the first time, the Khan viewed him with no small measure of affection.

“My thoughts were similar,” he replied softly, “There is a hole in my heart, but it grows less painful by the day. Although I am devoted to Ylisse, I will confess that I am grateful to be free from its shadow for the time being.”

“Good, good,” Basilio said, about to speak further when –

“Tally-ho!” 

“Ha! I see it!” Basilio nocked his arrow and shot towards the trees, thrice in succession, quick as a flash. Within mere moments, there was a crescendo of noise as hounds retrieved the fallen hares. Basilio lowered his bow in satisfaction.

“Fine shooting, Basilio.”

“Aye, aye, indeed. And you’ve not fired a single arrow today.”

Chrom looked away briefly, “I find myself outdone by finer hunters.”

“That sounds less like flattery and more like self-pity. Though I thank you for the compliment all the same.”

Chrom sighed, “I apologise if I… find myself not quite as enthusiastic as I’d imagined I’d be.”

“Take the next quarry, boy. You’ve just forgotten the pleasures of hunting.”

He demurred with a slight incline of his head.

“You dress a wound with medicine, bandages, that sort of thing, no matter the nature of the wound,” Basilio looked at him from the corner of his eyes, “Time and medicine. But what medicine, that is a question for the ages. Though it is no rule, it is customary to treat the taking of a life with the granting of a life.”

Chrom nodded, expression sombre, “Pardoning prisoners, then.”

“If you like. A new babe would be better.”

Chrom started at that, staring up at Basilio with reddening cheeks, “I beg your pardon?”

“I see a hare o’er yonder. Take the shot.”

Despite his efforts, Basilio would not budge from his demands. Chrom reluctantly nocked his arrow, aiming at the animal that was half-hidden behind a bush. Inhaling deeply, he focused on little else, stilling his body as best he could, narrowing his eyes and waiting for just the right moment…

He released the bow string. The hare twitched on the ground once, dead.

“A fine shot!” Basilio said in a booming voice, clapping Chrom’s back, “You’ve learnt well, boy. Has the pleasure of the hunt returned?”

Chrom couldn’t help the smile, even as he shook his head, “Yes. As a matter of fact, I believe it has.”


	55. Chapter 55

The aches and pains of the hunt seemed to melt away as Chrom lowered himself into the tub with a sigh. The water was hotter than he was used to, but it soothed his tense muscles and relaxed him. The hunt had been good. He’d caught his fair share of game, though it certainly paled in comparison to the wild boar Basilio had singlehandedly hog-tied. Nevertheless, Chrom made a decent enough showing as foreign prince. He’d forgotten how much hunting made him think of nothing else than the bow in hand, the quarry within his sights, the thrill as an unleashed arrow met true to its mark. Ylisse, Ylisstol, Emmeryn’s burial; nothing seemed to matter in that instant. He felt some levity for the first time in many months. 

And that levity turned into a spark of excitement when he re-entered his private chambers in the guest wing, to find Robin sitting on his bed, thumbing through a book.

“Robin,” he breathed, glancing around for unwanted eyes before he stepped past the threshold and decisively locked the door behind him, “What are you doing here?”

“Shepherd business to attend to,” she said as she snapped the book shut, “Couldn’t be helped, you know.”

“Indeed,” Chrom replied, rounding the bed to stand by her side, both hands planted firmly in the mattress to look at her, “Pressing enough concerns for the Shepherds to leave Ylisstol?”

“Oh, you know, brigands causing trouble in the north, rumours of a Feroxi coup while the Exalt is at the hunt; the usual. One has to investigate these matters thoroughly, as one can imagine.”

“Hmm,” Chrom said in favour of kissing Robin firmly on the lips. She was slightly surprised, but rested her hands loosely over his shoulders and returned his kiss. After a moment, Chrom pulled back, “One wonders how much merit there is to these rumours to demand the personal attention of the Captain of the Shepherds.”

“Being Captain certainly has its privileges,” she replied with a smile that seemed to hint at a secret, “Such as delegating the investigation to her subordinates.”

“And a personal audience with the Exalt.”

“That too,” she pulled him to the bed, guiding him above her as she lay down quite comfortably against the pillows.

When they broke apart Chrom asked, “How many with you?”

“Just the four. Miriel, Lon’Qu, Stahl, Gregor, and myself. The ones who know how to keep a low profile. It does little to make such a ruckus of something that could be insubstantial, after all.”

“Gregor in Regna Ferox? Hardly what one would consider low profile.”

“He helps the others blend in with the locals.”

“What of Frederick?”

“Is aware of us in the vicinity, though I’ve not indicated I would come visit.”

“And how long do we have?”

It was poor precedent for the future wife of the yet-to-be coronated Exalt to set, but she had been nothing if not dutiful from the very beginning. If anything, she deserved to throw caution to the wind.

With a smile, Robin pressed her hand against Chrom’s chest, sliding up below the dressing gown and pushing it off his body, “All night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOPS LOOKS LIKE WE GONNA GET EXPLICIT


	56. Chapter 56

It was suddenly hard to breathe. 

Chrom was hyperaware of the hand on his shoulder, the weight of the heavy fur-lined dressing gown barely clinging to his body by the waist, the warm body beneath him, sensitive to the sound of her soft breaths, quickening now that she’d made her move, the subtle flush of her cheeks, her thick lashes drawn low as she gazed at him with…

Well.

This was all very new and very exciting. 

“I understand,” she began, licking her lips, and Chrom couldn’t have looked away if he’d tried, “That there are certain… taboos within Ylissian culture related to intimacy. Boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed.”

“Indeed,” he replied, voice rough and impossibly low. Unable to help himself, he had placed his left hand on her hip, beneath her tactician’s robes, sure he wasn’t imagining how warm she felt under his touch.

“I wonder to what extent we are allowed to… _test_ those boundaries.”

“Given that I’ve never before had occasion to,” Chrom’s thumb found its way beneath her camisole and rubbed slow, coaxing circles into bare skin, “We’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”

She bit her lower lip in response. 

Oh, but this was absolutely delicious.

With a sly smile, Chrom lowered himself, Robin parting her lips for him as she arched into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his body and responding in kind. She fumbled her gloves off, tangling her fingers in his hair and cradling his cheek as she pulled him even closer, gasping softly when she felt a wandering hand curling under her thigh and sliding upwards to her arse, squeezing. She angled her hips upwards, pressing hard and rolling her hips against his. 

Chrom broke the kiss to shrug the blasted gown off his body, almost ripping off the ties in his effort to remove it. This was all because Robin, curse the minx, had been more enthusiastic than he’d anticipated. He harboured some thoughts of course, he was no monk after all, but he’d been resigned to waiting until his wedding night. That thought helped him hold back, keep their rendezvous’ slow and relaxed and _nonphysical_. Now though… it was as though a switch had been flipped somewhere inside him. Curse Robin and her dark glittering eyes, beckoning him to _want_. In that instant, he lost his desire of being slow, of being languid, and found the constriction of clothing between them to be _unbearable_.

Impatiently, Chrom began to disrobe Robin in a frenzy, as though every moment she was dressed was a moment he couldn’t _breathe_. He practically manhandled her as he all but ripped off her camisole and threw off her breeches, obliging when she tugged for him to pull his own tunic over his head. He felt like a savage as his kisses grew biting, rutting against her when she spread her legs for him. He could feel her hooking a foot behind one of his calves, stroking up and down gently, _infuriatingly_ , and it made him growl as he slipped a hand below her breastband and _squeezed_. He would be ashamed at his lack of control if he had any capacity for it.

They broke apart for air, panting harshly even as their hands began to scrabble at the ties of their smallclothes. But Robin, dear wonderful Robin with her clever incredible hands, managed to reach her goal first, gripping his erection firmly, earning her a sharp intake of breath and a shudder as Chrom faltered, all thoughts fleeing him with the tightening of her fist over the head of his cock. 

“ _Robin_ ,” he gasped, dizzy with lust, unable to see straight as she began stroking his cock, hard and fast, and the feel of someone else doing this for him was nothing short of _incredible_. 

Somehow, he managed to tug away her smallclothes with a trembling hand, reaching inside and sliding a finger along her cunt. She was drenched with come, and, emboldened, Chrom made the effort to press his finger harder and to slide up until the jerk Robin gave him indicated that he’d found what he was looking for. He swallowed her moan into an open-mouthed kiss, pressing harder, moving his finger in circles around her clitoris as she jerkily continued to stroke him. It was hard to think, impossible to focus on his own pleasure as he did all he could to bring her to completion, and he must have been doing _something_ right because Robin’s hand eventually stilled and all she could do was gasp against his mouth, whispering for him to go faster, clutching to the bedsheets for dear life as she rolled her hips to meet his touch and then – a strangled cry. A tense body slowly falling back into the mattress. Robin’s head lolling to the other side as her chest rose and fell with exertion. 

“Gracious,” she breathed, a slight laugh in her words but Chrom could only watch her with dazed eyes. Coyly, Robin reached out for his cock again, and he could only close his eyes and hiss at the contact. Pre-come made it slick, and Robin’s strokes came smoother, faster. Chrom barely realised how breathless he was until Robin flipped them over and he looked up at her, completely winded and exhausted despite the fact that he hadn’t yet spent himself. 

He nearly had a heart attack when he saw her lowering her mouth to his cock.

 _KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK_ , “Your Grace? Urgent news,” came the muffled voice from beyond the door.

Chrom groaned, spitting out a thousand curses as he rolled over to glare at the offending door.

“Your Grace?”

“Be still,” Robin whispered, patting his hand soothingly. When their eyes met, he felt the ire dampen, “They may think you are resting.”

“Your Grace? Surely… blasted door is locked… I say, get me the key, will you?”

Looking positively murderous, Chrom gently pushed Robin to her haunches and grabbed his dressing gown, throwing it on haphazardly and storming to the entrance. He unlocked the door and opened it just a crack, scowling at Frederick, who had the gall to look surprised.

“Your Grace! You look…”

“ _What_ do you want?”

Frederick blinked at him rapidly, “Something wrong, sire?”

“You interrupted me.”

“What could I have…” A pointed look at the state of Chrom’s undress and the fact that he smelled like a brothel made the bells go off in his head. Frederick’s eyes widened and he had the courtesy to look chagrined, averting his eyes. He cleared his throat, “My apologies for interrupting your… private time, however a scouting party has arrived and seeks an audience. Our Shepherds number among them.”

Chrom closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against his fist, where it held onto the doorjamb, sighing, “How urgent could it be?”

“Urgent enough that Robin accompanies the party, though she is still en route. Miriel insists that she will arrive at any moment. Both Khans are also in attendance. It would serve you well to dress and come immediately, sire.”

 _I sure would love to come immediately_ , Chrom rolled his eyes mentally and sighed, nodding his agreement to Frederick, “Give me a few minutes.”

“I will wait for you here, Your Grace.”

Chrom closed the door irritably, turning to find, to his dismay, Robin fishing for her clothes, an apologetic look on her face as she began to dress quickly and efficiently.

“Must you leave?” He asked as he approached her, hating how wretched he sounded.

“Believe me when I say don’t want to. But I don’t dare arouse anymore suspicions, and with Frederick right outside the door… I honestly didn’t believe our investigations would turn anything up and so I’d thought… I’m sorry, Chrom. I truly am.”

He sighed wearily, following her to the window from which she’d climbed. He must have had the sulkiest look on his face because as she straddled the window frame, she looked at him and her expression softened, fond and amused and guilty all the same. She leaned forward to kiss him, tenderly, lovingly, and with whispered promises to come back, to reciprocate, she disappeared into the evening shadows.

Chrom banged his head against the window pane once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
